


After His Fall

by The_Captain



Series: The Cons of Being Dovahkiin [7]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Blood Loss, Dovahzul, Dragons, Epilogue, Healing, High Hrothgar, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Jorrvaskr, Major Character Injury, Memories, Nightmares, Post-Quest, Riften, Skyrim Main Quest, Sovngarde, always dragons, and it's more like a friends with benefits thing, relationship IS NOT the focus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-03 01:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 26,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13330431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Captain/pseuds/The_Captain
Summary: In Sovngarde, the very earth shook. Mera felt the force of Tsun's shout hit her like a warhammer to the chest. She blinked and the world was dark.And then she was cold.Everything was cold.In which the Dragonborn is injured fighting Alduin, and struggles to find her place in a world where her duty as Dragonborn is completed.





	1. Sovngarde and After

When Alduin fell, so did Mera.   

Collapsed to her knees, she watched as the World Eater gave one last bellowing roar as the very heavens opened above them. He deteriorated, much like she’d seen dozens of dragons do before, but it didn't end at the bones. Light, beautiful and terrible, lifted him up, up and into the void above. 

_ Akatosh _ . 

Tears ran down the sides of her face as she looked up and into the very cosmos as the terror of Tamriel vanished into a star speckled night. 

Sovngarde surrounded her in all its glory, and the sky closed. 

That's when she felt the pain again. 

Mera moved the hand that had been clutching at her side, looking down and seeing it soaked in dark blood. Even with help, Alduin was nearly impossible to take down. He’d gotten in more hits than she’d taken before, and had long since run out of potions to take the edge off. Her arm ached, and her entire right side felt like it was on fire. What happens to morals who die in Sovngarde? 

“You have honored yourself, Dragonborn,” the voice of Tsun sounded above her. She raised her head, blinking to see him standing beside the Nords of old. Kodlak was with them. 

“You've honored your predecessors,” Gormlaith said. She reminded Mera of Aela. 

“And you've honored the Companions as well, Harbinger,” Kodlak spoke kindly, and she was painfully reminded of how much she missed the old man. 

“Thank you,” she managed, though her voice was hardly a whisper when compared to the booming of her thu’um from.before. She was tired. So very tired. 

“You can rest later, Dragonborn,” Tsun started, moving closer. “Many winter's will pass before it is your turn to join us here. It's time for you to go home.” 

In Sovngarde, the very earth shook. Mera felt the force of Tsun’s shout hit her like a warhammer to the chest. She blinked and the world was dark. 

And then she was cold. 

Everything was cold.

Snow dusted over her hair as she opened her eyes. The world spun beneath her, and she ripped off her helmet, gasping for breath. The cold air turned her lungs to ice. 

Above her, the sky roared. 

No. 

Above her, a  _ dragon _ roared. 

Her head snapped up and her vision spun. Dragons covered the mountain. Mountain? She turned her head, head swimming, and she sighted the word wall. The Throat of the World. 

Paarthurnax. 

The Old One landed, causing the mountain to shake with his weight. Had she not already been on her knees, she would have fallen flat. 

He spoke to her directly, despite the chorus of voices in the skies above them. Happy he was at her victory but also saddened by Alduin’s defeat. She could hardly blame him for that. Finally, Paarthurnax took to the sky on pale wings, voice booming over those of the dragons that surrounded the mountain. 

“But willing or no, they will hear it! Fare thee well,  _ Dovahkiin _ !"

Perhaps Alduin’s original second in command could bring the rest of the dov to his heel. Tame them with the way of the voice. If anyone could, it was him. 

As Paarthurnax took off, Mera was left alone on the mountain, and her eyes traveled back downwards. Blood. Blood in the snow, crimson against the stark white. She was still bleeding, wasn’t she. Funny how she didn’t feel it anymore. 

The earth shook once more. 

Crimson in the snow. Odahviing staring down at her in her weakness. He spoke, and she struggled to hear it. “ _ Thuri, Dovahkiin _ . I gladly acknowledge the power of your Thu'um.  _ Zu'u Odahviing _ . Call me when you have need, and I will come if I can."

“ _ Odahviing _ ,” Mera whispered his name, feeling it on her tongue. It came out slurred. Was this the first she had spoke since coming to the mountain. No. She had spoken to Paarthurnax, hadn’t she? She couldn’t remember. Thinking was difficult. 

At the sound of his name, the red dragon lowered his head down to her level. “You are  _ ahraan, Dovahkiin. _ I did not think  _ Wuth Gein  _ would leave you in such a state.”

Mera desperately wracked her brain for anything to say. She had earned the respect of Odahviing, a dragon who was willing to fight by her side and acknowledge her strength. Showing weakness was not ideal, and neither was asking for help so early.

“ _ Fa...fahdon _ ,” she struggled with the pronunciation, pulling the dragon’s word for friend out from where she mentally stored whatever the Greybeards had taught her. She had shown interest in learning the language, once, but hadn’t the patience for more than a few short lessons. “I… I hate to ask your assistance so soon but,” she hissed, attempting to raise herself up, off of her knees and onto her feet, she wobbled, but was surprised to find the large head of a dragon there to stop her fall, “I am afraid I won’t make it down the mountain in this state.” Her voice sounded strange in her ears. Slurred and struggling. She continued, “Your ass...assist-ance would be much ap, ap, appreciated.” 

“Hm,” Odahviing, terror of the skies, general to the World Eater and tormentor of mankind seemed to debate his options for a moment. “I will take you down to where those humans study the  _ thu’um. Daar nis meyz ireik.  _ We cannot make a habit of you riding me,  _ Dovahkiin _ , no matter the  _ mul do hin thu'um _ .” 

Odahviing nudged her with his head, and in one quick movement, lifted her with it. She struggled to take hold, grasping feebly onto the spikes on him as he attempted to adjust her. “Hold on,” he growled, before shaking his body and taking to the sky. 

She nearly fell off his back the instance they were in the air, but Odahviing flew steadily, more carefully than he had on their way to Skuldafn.

She blinked, and then she felt him land. How long had they been in the air? 

Shouting, she heard shouting, and she felt her body hit the cold ground, cushioned by a layer of fresh snow. The rush of wind hit her with the sound of wings lifting a dragon up, up and into the sky. 

A warm hand touched her forehead.

And then she was cold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no way in hell the Dragonborn gets out of Sovengarde scot-free. A mortal should not be able to visit a realm of the dead without some form of punishment. And even without that, the Dragonborn was bound to be injured by Alduin in their fight.  
> Anyway, I hope ya'll liked this. Please comment and let me know how interested you are in having me continue this. I was going to do this as a few one shots in that collection, but I thought it would be better as a fleshed out story.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her world is pain, but then it's not.

Mera opened her eyes.

She was still in the snow. _Pain._

Mera opened her eyes.

Her bed was cold. _Pain._

Mera opened her eyes.

Blankets, warm hands, magic words. _Pain._

Mera opened her eyes.

A bottle at her lips. _Drink._

Mera slept.

_You are not done here yet._

Mera opened her eyes.

The room was empty and silent, save for her and the crackling of the hearth. She tried to move her head and look around, but her body resisted the motion with a painful stiffness.

_A tail hits her, sending her flying, crashing into the cliff face._

Despite the pain, she forced herself to sit up.

A mistake. She yelled out her pain and shock when her entire side flared with hot pain.

_Dragon fangs. She barely escapes them sinking soundly into her middle. They still grab her, for a moment, but they release with a harsh roar of pain as he turns his attention to defend his flank, and she slips away._

Hurried steps sounded on stone in the hall. She opened her eyes wide, ready to defend against whoever it could be before she realized where she was.

High Hrothgar, of course.

Arngeir enters the room, looking more rushed then she'd ever seen the peaceful, ever calm master.

“ _Meyus kon!_ ” He cursed in dovahzul, and her pain fogged mind could not even find her usual irritation at him using a language she couldn't understand. “Stay _down_ , Mera!”

His hands, surprisingly firm, grip her shoulders and push her back down and onto the bed.

“Arngeir,” she rasped, her voice sounding foreign in her own ears. When had she last spoken? “What…”

The Greybeard sighed. “Easy, child. You were injured horribly in your fight with the World Eater. Do you remember how you got here?”

She thought, her mind feeling muddied with pain and confusion. “Odahviing…” she started, shaking her head. “How long?”

“Only a day. We kept you under. We are not healers, Dovahkiin. Your body needs rest, else your condition will worsen.”

She let that information sink in. A whole day? And she still was not well. No wonder she felt like she lost a fight to a horker.

_Or a dragon._

“He's dead,” she stated.

“Perhaps,” Arngeir nodded. “Or perhaps he is just gone. Or away. But fret not, Dovahkiin. Now is time for rest. You've done your job.”

Rest. It sounded appealing. She leaned back onto the pillow behind her. “Master Arngeir -”

“Drink this,” he interrupted her, pressing a cup into her good hand. She raised it up, and tried to subtly smell the liquid. Water, just water, she was sure. She brought it to her lips and took a long drink.

She didn’t realize how thirsty she was until she started to drink. She eagerly gulped down what water she could, taking it greedily as it coated her too coarse throat. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“Your welcome.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the loudest sound in the room her labored breathing as she attempted to get comfortable.

“You are welcome to stay here, Dovahkiin, for as long as necessary. I would recommend it. The trip down the seven thousand steps is difficult for even the strongest warrior or dedicated scholar. There is no need to risk yourself in such a state. We would prefer you to leave here _healthy_ , not simply _alive_.”

Mera closed her eyes. He was right, of course. Attempting to descend the mountain with her wounds would be a fool’s errand. Fighting an ice wolf or a snow bear in her condition would most likely result in an embarrassing end for the Dragonborn. Killed by a wolf due to her own impatience. She frowned at the thought.

Skyrim could certainly wait for her to return. Besides, hadn’t she earned the rest? Life up on High Hrothgar, she had learned, was rather peaceful. The Greybeards spent their time meditating and learning, connecting themselves to their studies in a way only a master could. Perhaps some time away, hidden in a castle on top of a mountain was what Mera needed after her long and tiring fight. Maybe she could even learn a thing or two.

“You’re right,” she whispered, cleared her throat, and then repeated herself with more strength. “You’re right. I need rest. I would like to spend time meditating and learning as well, if you will have me.”

A wisp of a smile pulled at Arngeir’s lips at her words. “You’ve hardly been a model student thus far, but you do have an eagerness to learn. Perhaps you can be taught now that you can’t move.” Mera would have laughed if she wasn’t sure the action would hurt her. She smiled as well, and then closed her eyes. She was so _tired_. Beside her, the master hummed. “Rest now, Mera. Your lessons can wait.”


	3. Chapter 3

It was  _ days  _ before she walked again. Bedridden, all Mera could do was eat whatever bread and cheese reserves the Greybeards had, drink melted snow, and sleep. And she slept constantly. Master Arngeir told her that this was good. The Greybeards were not healers, he never hesitated to point out, but what he did know was that she needed to sleep in order to recover. 

On day three (or was it four), Mera told herself that she was going to stand by sundown, and attempt to join the Greybeards in their nightly meditation. She was content to keep to that plan as she attempted to rest the day away until she heard distant shouting in the hall. 

Her eyes snapped open, suddenly more aware of her surroundings then she had been in days. 

_ Move _ , a voice in the back of her head urged, and she did. It was a struggle not to simply force herself to her feet, but she knew that jumping up would likely aggravate her injuries. Instead, she slowly moved herself onto shaky legs that were not quite ready to support her weight after days of rest. She pushed on regardless, forcing herself to stand upright, her arm quickly going to her right side to clutch at her wound, checking to see if it started to bleed. Out in the hall, the shouting grew more heated. 

Mera searched the room, looking for her belongings until her eyes fell on her armor, placed neatly on a table. She quickly went looking for her enchanted bag, pulling out the Sanguine Rose. A daedric warrior should suffice in her place, since Mera was sure she still couldn’t hold her own in a fight, and the staff could also act as a crutch for her to lean on on her way to the hall. 

She moved as quickly as she could, following the sound of raised voices. As she grew nearer, she realized it sounded more like arguing then fighting, but an argument with masters of the voice could quickly turn deadly. Mera turned into the main hall near the entrance and froze at who she saw. 

Delphine stood there, red in the face and shouting at Master Arngeir with Esbern by her side. Arngeir argued back, more in a hurried, hushed tone, clearly trying to keep a level head in the situation. 

What was she doing here? Delphine wasn’t welcome at High Hrothgar, with the exception of the Civil War cease fighting situation. Mera hadn’t seen either of the Blades since there, and seeing them now hurt. The Blades ostization of the Dragonborn was unheard of in their history, and yet they cast her aside like she was replaceable. After he had helped them fight and rebuild, brought them Mjoll and Uthgerd, they could not look past Paarthurnax, even after she pleaded with them to. 

Her heart leapt up into her throat. Paarthurnax. Where they here for him? Rationally, Mera knew they could never reach the Throat of the World, not without a master of the voice to guide them, but she still felt that fear grip her chest. 

“Delphine?” She spoke up finally, her voice softer than she intended. 

The arguing stopped dead in its tracks as all heads turned to spot her at the top of the stairs. 

“Dragonborn,” Esbern whispered.

“Mera!” Delphine cried her name out in a way that surprised her. “Thank the Divines, you’re alive. We’d heard you left Whiterun on dragonback and could hardly believe it. We thought you’d… Nevermind.” 

Mera’s head spun, “What are you doing here?” She asked, eyes darting between the Blades and the Greybeards, the tension in the room tangible. 

Delphine leveled a hard glare at Arngeir, who looked at her just as harshly. “We’d come to inquire about you. About Alduin. No one seems to know anything about what happened to you after Whiterun, and we wanted answers.” 

“And you will have them in due time!” Arngeir spoke, managing to sound so powerful for an old man. “But you are not  _ welcome here _ , and neither is your violence, and I must ask you to-” 

“I killed him,” Mera interrupted, looking between Arngeir and Delphine with hestiance. She shifted her weight momentarily to her bad side, before hissing and adjusting again. She leaned heavily on the staff. “I needed a dragon to get to Skuldafn, to reach the portal to Sovngarde, where I fought Alduin. He’s gone.” 

Despite her anger and resentment of Delphine, Esbern, and their treatment of her, they deserved to know. They helped her to get to where she was as much as the Greybeards did. 

“Good. We were worried about you,” Delphine admitted, and Mera felt a pang in her stomach. 

She turned her head away from Delphine, back to Arngeir. “Master Arngeir, if you would permit it, I would like to speak to the Blades before they depart.”

There was a long, uncomfortable moment of silence before Arngeir nodded. “If you must. But they will be gone within the hour. I will not have them trapped her after sundown.” 

“That’s fair. Thank you, Master.” She bowed her head, and turned to face Delphine. Without a word, she gestured with her head for them to follow her, and she was thankful when they did. 

“Where are we going, Dragonborn?” Esbern asked as they followed her down the hall. 

“Back to where I’ve been staying. My fight with Alduin was not without injury. The Greybeards have been caring for me while I recover,” Mera explained, leading them back inside her chambers. 

She settled herself onto the bed, managing to keep sitting upright rather than laying back down. She placed the Rose beside her on the floor, readily available in case she needed to move again. 

Delphine opened her mouth, but Mera spoke before she could get a word out. “If you’re about to ask about Paarthurnax, my answer hasn’t changed. He’s proven to be a valuable ally, and now intends to teach other dragons to follow a path of nonviolence. Whether or not that will work is…” She shook her head, shrugging. “Whatever. Even if he is not successful, Paarthurnax is under my protection. An act of violence against him is an act of violence against me.” 

Delphine’s lips pressed together in a thin line at her words. 

“We do not wish for violence with you,” Esbern started, and Delphine interrupted him. 

“Is that all you wanted to tell us?” She snapped, and Mera shook her head. 

“No. I’ve been thinking about Paarthurnax’s… desire to turn other dragons and I’m worried,” she ran her hand through her hair. “To have a dragon’s blood is to thirst for power, always. I’m afraid that other dragons will see Alduin’s fall as an opportunity to rise, and that they’ll begin to act out to prove themselves.” 

Delphine sighed and Esbern nodded, “A wise assumption, Dragonborn.”

“Thank you, Esbern. What I wanted to say is that if you ever come across a dragon that you can’t bring down, you may have outcasted me but…” she sighed, closing her eyes, “I’m still willing to help you. Once I’ve recovered, if necessary, send a courier and if I can, I’ll help.” 

Delphine looked ready to argue, but Esbern wisley nodded. “We thank you for that offer.”

“You understand that we simply cannot work with someone who works with dragons,” Delphine pointed out, stubborn as always. 

“I understand, Delphine, but the offer still stands,” Mera looked at her firmly. “We were allies, once. I would hate for you to get hurt if I could help.”

Silence consumed them for a beat, and then Mera continued. “I’d like to ask you a favor.”

“No,” Delphine started at the same time Esbern asked, “What is it?” 

“It’s simple. Please,” She turned to the bedside table and reached into the drawer, pulling out two letters. “I’m weak, Delphine. I won’t survive the trip down the mountain in my condition, and I’ll probably be stuck up here for some time. The Greybeards have been hospitable and welcoming, but… I have friends in Skyrim who are probably wondering what happened to me after I left Whiterun, too.” She had written the letters in the past few days, while she was bedridden and too exhausted to do much else. With a tired arm, she extended them to Delphine. “If you could send them for me, find a courier who will deliver them, I’d be grateful. Delphine didn’t take them immediately, and Mera felt anger rise inside of her. “After all I’ve done for you, you can’t mail two letters, I-” 

Delphine snatched them from her hand. “Alright. We’ll send them out. Where do I tell the courier to go?” 

“The one on the left is for the Companions in Whiterun,” She sighed, relieved that her letters would be delivered. “The right will go to Brynjolf in Riften.” Mera gestured to the names written on the envelopes. “I appreciate this, Delphine.” 

“Hm,” the Blade huffed, before standing to her feet. “We’re going now.”

“That’s probably best. Arngeir will have a fit if you’re here any longer.” 

Delphine and Esbern got to their feet, gathering themselves while Delphine slipped the letters into her bag. They turned to face the door, ready to walk out together.

Mera hesitated, gnawing on her lip before speaking again. “It was good to see you. Both of you.”

Delphine stopped in her tracks, before turning to face her once more. “You too, Mera. I’m glad you survived. Try not to do anything too reckless, will you?” 

“I’ll try my hardest.”

And with that, she was alone once more, and more than ready to go back to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used to hate Delphine with a passion for asking me to kill Paarthurnax, but in my recent play through I've realized that she really just wants what's best for humanity. I still side with the Greybeards, but I wanted to give her some kind of redemption. 
> 
> As always, let me know what you think. PLEASE comment. I thrive on your feedback and need to know if people like the series so I know to keep working on it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


	4. Chapter 4

“Relax, Dovahkiin,” Master Arngeir coached, “you’re holding too much tension in your shoulders.”

“I’m trying,” Mera grit through her teeth, forcing her jaw and her muscles to relax. It’d been a week since her return, a week of healing, and for the past few days, Mera had been attempting to get up and out more. She ate meals with the Greybeards, sitting at their table and enjoying the silence of their company. She was glad to be here with them during this time. Master Arngeir asked no questions about Sovngarde or her battle, only about how her wounds were fairing and if she was interested in joining in on their meditations, which she usually agreed to. 

She was glad for their lack of questioning. She needed it, especially with how things have been now that she’s mostly only resting at night. 

Resting would be the more appropriate word. She hardly found herself sleeping. 

During the nights she was plagued. Since Helgen, she’d always struggled with them. The scene of her near execution moments after her metaphorical birth was enough to give anyone nightmares, but when paired with the smell of burning flesh, the sound of screaming children, and the sight of black wings filling the sky was enough to terrorize her. 

Now, her memories seemed to find new ways to torment her in her sleep. 

She closed her eyes. 

_ She sees fire, fire falling from the sky _ .

She closed her eyes.

_ The skies open wide, and she thinks it’ll swallow him, but it doesn’t. _

She closed her eyes. 

_ The sky swallows her instead. Dead, dead, is she dead? She floats up and up and up but where? Where is she going? Alduin, he laughs. Evergloam, the Hunting Grounds, Sovngarde. How could she be torn from a place so beautiful to go where? Alduin laughs.  _

Mera closed her eyes, exhaling slowly as she attempted to get into the mindset of meditation. Through Paarthurnax, she was able to deepen her understanding of  _ yol _ , but the Greybeards could help her understand more words deeply, giving more power and focus to all of her shouts. 

Potentially. 

She kept her eyes closed, breathing softly as Master Arngeir settled into his morning meditation. She wished she could find peace in the darkness behind her eyelids, but all Mera could see was emptiness, the uncertainty of her future. Of her end. 

She snaps her eyes open. “I’m going to the courtyard,” she spoke softly, as to minimize the disturbance. 

Arngeir opened his eyes to look at her, leveling a knowing glance her way. She was sure he heard her restlessness during the night, and once again she was thankful for his lack of questioning and willingness to give her space.

* * *

Hours later, Mera sat curled up in a chair, nose in a book she had found on the dragon language. With Odahviing and Paarthurnax as her allies, she’d like to have a better understanding of their tongue, even if she could just learn well enough to address them properly. She knew plenty of scattered words from the shouts she had learned.  _ Fus, yol, lok, fien, hun.  _ Force, fire, sky, fade, hero. While useful in battle, they hardly made for good conversation. Arngeir had shown her a tome that was penned ages ago, translating dragonic text, to verbal language, and then to the mortal tongue. Looking to her sword, she closed her eyes and searched for the word in her head. “Z… zef, no, that’s not it.  _ Zah _ , um.” She cursed, and looked back down onto the page. “ _ Zahkrii.  _ Alright.  _ Krii _ means kill so if I can remember that…”

“Dragonborn,” Master Arngeir bowed his head as he announced his presence in the room. 

“Master Arngeir. Thank you again for finding this book for me. Learning is… slow but I appreciate it.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” The Greybeard spoke, before nodding out of the room. “Come with me, please. There are… visitors.”

“Visitors?” Mera spoke, voice on edge. 

“Yes, but these are not as unwelcome as the last,” Arngeir clarified before she could jump to conclusions. 

With her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, she stood and slowly made her way out and into the main hall. Walking was still difficult for Mera, but simple movement around the grounds of High Hrothgar no longer required the staff to lean on, as long as she took things slow. 

At the top of the steps of the main hall, Mera froze at who she saw. 

The Companions, they’d come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is shorter than I had intended. I know the Companions arriving isn't much of a shock, but I have a lot planned for them, so I figured giving them a chapter where they're the focus was best. I'm already half way through with that chapter, so expect an update soon!   
> As always, please comment to let me know what you think and what you'd like to see!


	5. Chapter 5

There stood Aela, Farkas and Vilkas the middle of the hall, spines ramrod straight and chins held high with respect for the home of the Greybeards, as to be expected from any Nord worth their salt. 

For the first time since her injury, the wolf in her howled at the sight of her pack. 

“I can’t believe it,” Mera spoke a grin splitting across her face, and all three heads snapped towards her at the sound of her voice. 

“Mera!” Farkas shouted, and she suspected he would have run towards her if not for his brother not so subtly grabbing his wrist, eyes trained to a spot behind her, no doubt at where Arngeir was standing. So respectful of the Greybeards. Mera nearly laughed out loud. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked, taking her time making her way down the few steps. Turning behind her, she noticed Arngeir was gone. It was around time for another session of meditation, and she was glad for  the privacy with the Companions. 

“We received your letter,” Vilkas clarified, and with no one in the room to witness it, Farkas swooped in and pulled her into a hug. 

“Easy,” she grunted, pain shooting through her side as she wrapped her arms around him as well. 

He loosened his grip and spoke sheepishly, “Sorry. It’s good to see you, sister.”

“It’s good to see you too.” Mera laughed as he finally let her go, and she tuned just in time to be embraced by Aela. “I’ve missed you.”   

Turning to Vilkas, the more stoic of the twins placed a hand on her shoulder, rather than hug her. She smiled at him just the same. She’d left Vilkas in charge of the Companions during her absence, and was even considering simply passing the title to him. “You said you received my letter?” she pressed, “that doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.” 

“You said you were two weak to make it down the mountain alone with your injuries,” Aela spoke and Mera faced her. “We’re here to escort you down the mountain, Harbinger, if you’re ready.” 

Mera couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across her face. She was more than happy with the Greybeards and their hospitality, but she was beginning to feel trapped high on the mountain. With her mind how it’s been, she didn’t feel like silence was helping her keep her mind off of her nightmares. A change could help. 

“I’m honored that you’ve come all this way to help me. I would be thrilled to have you as my escorts.” 

Aela smiled, and Farkas looked ready to burst. Even Vilkas’ lips pulled slightly, which made Mera feel light. In a lower, more serious voice, she spoke, closed fist going to beat at her chest. “I’ve missed my pack as much as my shield-siblings. There’s much we have to discuss, when we return to Jorrvaskr.” 

Noting the change in note, the three of them nodded solemnly. 

“I’m going to go get ready, and speak to Master Arngeir. Then we can head out.”

“Good,” Vilkas looked up, as if he could see the sky (or sense the moons), “if we leave soon, we can make it to Ivarstead by sundown, and rest there for the night before we head to Whiterun.” 

“I’m slow,” She warned them. 

“We can be patient,” Aela nodded. “Go, now. We’ll be here.” 

She returned to her quarters, stripping and changing back into her armor as quickly as she could. She hadn’t worn it since her fight, and while someone must have cleaned it for her, the holes were still there. Several punctures in the armor, marking where each fang broke through to her flesh. It was a miracle that she was alive. Had Alduin not released her. Had he tried to tear his jaw away… 

She shuddered, and continued to dress, ignoring the holes as she gathered the rest of her things in her pack and strapped it to her hip. It was heavier than she remembered it being, and she had to wear it on her left side rather than her right to not put pressure on her healing wounds. With her sword, armed and at her hip, she left the room, and went in search of the Greybeards. 

She found them in the courtyard, meditating as she had expected. 

“Master Arngeir,” she called, and he stood, moving to talk with her. 

“They’ve come to take you home,” he stated, and she nodded. 

“Yes, they have. I want to thank you for all you’ve done for me here. I would have died if not for your help.” 

“And you still might if you don’t take care of your wounds,” he warned. “Make sure to dress them properly, and see a healer once you’ve returned to Whiterun.” 

A soft smile pulled at her lips, and she nodded. “I will. And before I forget,” she reached into her pack and pulled out the book on Dovahzul, holding it towards him. “Here.” 

Arngeir did not extend his hand. “Keep it, for now. You should continue your studies if you ever want to get a grasp on the language. Bring it back the next time you come. Perhaps I will have new material for you, then.” 

Mera bowed her head respectfully. “Thank you, Master.” 

She nearly heard a smile in her voice as he dismissed her. “Go, now, before it grows to late. Wind guide you,” he bowed his head to her.

“Sky guard you,” Mera said, before turning to head back inside. 

She returned to the main hall to find the Companions there, examining the walls and the decorations around High Hrothgar with high appreciation. “I’m ready if you whelps are,” she announced, causing their heads to turn towards her. 

“Whelp?” Vilkas scoffed, a mostly hidden smirk pulling at his lip. 

“You heard me, come on, let’s go.” 

Together they stepped outside, and into the light. 

Progress was slow down the mountain. Luckily for Mera, the Companions already had to make their way up before making their way down, and they killed most every threat during the first leg of their journey. But that didn't stop them from being wary. In her current state, Mera would be useless in close combat. Sure she had spells and her thu'um, but both required more energy than she really had. Arngeir had been clear. She had to be careful not to physically strain herself to fast, or the wound could tear open and she'd be in trouble. 

“I'm eager to hear the tales of your battle, sister,” Aela’s smooth voice sounded from beside her. Mera walked on the outside of the mountain, while Aela walked the inside, should anything attempt to attack from the bushes. Behind her Farkas took the flank, while Vilkas lead the party down the mountain. 

“Aela you would have loved it,” Mera shook her head. “You would have fit right in with the ancient Nords and their battle movements. And we would have benefited from another expert archer, of course.”

Her shield sister glowed with the compliment, as Mera expected she would. Aela was rightfully proud of her accomplishments. 

She walked quietly for a moment, feet slipping slightly on ice before Aela reached out to steady her. She thanked her quietly, before sighing. “I saw Kodlak.”

In front of her, Vilkas came to a complete halt. 

“What?” Farkas gawked as his brother turned around. “Did you really?” 

“I did,”

“Did you speak to him?” Vilkas asked, and Mera felt something painful pang in her chest. All the Companions missed Kodlak, but the twins looked at him like a father. 

“Yes, I did. He was happy, with Ysgramor by his side.” 

“By Talos, did you see him, too?” Farkas pressed, and Mera nodded. 

“I envy your adventure, sister,” Aela nudged her slightly with her shoulder. “They will sing songs of you in meadhalls for centuries to come!”  

Aela’s optimism was appreciated, and Mera wished she could think like her. Sovngarde was beautiful, and the fact that she had been there and come  _ back _ was worth bragging about, but it haunted her, regardless. 

She looked at Vilkas, who was still staring at her. Sort of. His eyes seemed to glance right through her, to something unknown, and she could guess what he was thinking. 

“I was going to wait until we returned to Jorrvaskr to discuss this with you but…” she trailed off, glancing down before looking at each of them in turn. “Sovngarde was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. I want that, when it’s my time, and I want that for you, too.” Mera tried to stand tall, and she placed a hand on her heart once again. “The beast blood will keep us from going there. We all know that. And the choice is for each of you to decide on your own. For some of you,” she looked pointedly at Aela, “Hircine’s Hunting Grounds probably sound very appealing. But I don’t want that. Not after what I’ve seen.” 

After a long moment of silence, Farkas spoke up. “I’m with you.” 

“We’re with you,” Vilkas filled in. “My brother and I have been discussing it, while you were gone. We were planning to cure ourselves, too.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” Mera smiled at both of the brothers, feeling warmth spread inside of her. Then, she turned to Aela. 

“If that is your decision for yourself, Harbinger, I will respect it. But I-” 

A harsh growl sounded from behind them, and Vilkas looked up, eyes wide and hands going to his greatsword. “Sabers!” 

Mera turned, too, as her shield-siblings armed themselves in a blink, and she stumbled back a step. Two of them. Difficult to deal with, but not impossible. Farkas pushed her back with one strong arm before charging forward with an impressive battle cry. 

It was horrible, feeling useless. She hadn't felt this pathetic since Helgen, when she was practically dragged by the collar by Ralof out of the keep as a literal babe in the woods. She wasn't worried about the inner circle of the Companions not being able to handle themselves, but she was more upset with herself for needing protecting from something as simple as a saber cat to begin with. 

A thud and a low growl sounded from the cliff face, and she whipped around to see the cause of the noise. 

An ice wolf crouched low to the ground, back to the rising mountain. Either the animal was opportunistic and taking advantage of injured prey while the cats took the damage, or the beasts had somehow coordinated an attack. Neither would surprise her. 

Her first instinct was to use Unrelenting Force to throw it back, but the power of a three word shout would exhaust her, and if it got back up, she didn't know if she could fight it. Not to mention how it managed to keep itself on the inside of the cliff.  She couldn't simply force it off the side and be done. 

It seemed she didn't have much time to think. The wolf lunged for her, and she did the first thing that came to her mind. 

“ _ Fiem! _ ” She shouted, using the one word to cause her body to fade as she jumped back a step. Become Ethereal always felt like a cheap way out of a combat situation, but that was what she needed now. 

The couldn't hurt her, not for the moment, and in the mean while she could work to find a better solution. 

“Move!” Aela shouted, bow poised to fire at the wolf as Farkas charged forward with his sword drawn. She felt the effect of the shout fade, and she tried to get out of the way.

She fumbled back a step, feet grappling for purchase on the icy edge. 

And then she fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go folks! I've had this chapter in my mind for a long time, and I'm excited to see what you think of what comes next! 
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone who's been reviewing. You give me the energy I need to keep writing!


	6. Chapter 6

Time seemed to slow as Mera lost her footing. She saw Farkas plunging his sword into the skull of the wolf just as Aela’s arrow was set loose. She heard Vilkas shout sprinting towards the edge of the cliff. Her body clenched, waiting for an impact that she knew was a long way off. 

Arms outstretched, she was falling hard. 

And then she wasn’t, and a sound filled the air that sound so pained filled the air it hurt her own ears to hear it. 

Dimly, she looked up, and saw Vilkas, eyes wide and tinted with an inhuman yellow, half hanging off the edge of the mountain, gripping tightly onto her right arm. The scream hadn’t stopped yet, and it was only when she closed her mouth that she realized it was her. 

Something warm and wet was making its way down her side, along with a harsh, burning pain that she hadn’t felt since--

_ Fuck. _

“Fuck!” She screamed out her pain, cursing loudly as pain ripped through her arm and shoulder. 

Vilkas had both of his large hands wrapped tightly around her wrist as she dangled limply over the edge. He grunted, arms strained as he slowly lifted her face turning red from the strain of lifting her weight. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she numbly thought about how glad she was that Vilkas carried a greatsword, heavy as they are and that she typically dressed in light armor. 

Her head swam as her wounds continued to leak, her ears roaring with her own pulse. It was unbearably loud. No, wait, there was something else. Shouting. Was it her again? 

“Mera, your hand!” Farkas, that was Farkas. He was there now, beside his brother, reaching out. Her hand, he wanted her hand. 

Get it together, Mera. 

With what strength she had, she swung, attempting to use her dead weight to move her left arm up so Farkas could grab it. He didn’t fail, instantly grasping her other arm and with the added strength of both the twins, they heaved her up and over the edge. 

She collapsed into the snow, breathing heavily as the two men stood, also panting from effort. She opened her eyes, blurry watching as Farkas gripped her brother by both shoulders and shook him. Vilkas was shaking his head, growling and grunting as he tried to shake himself back down. 

A new hand grabbed Mera and flipped her so she was on her back, looking up into the blue, blue sky. “Vilkas, get it together!” Aela snapped, hovering above her. The sun outlined her head, creating a heavenly glow around her and she looked Mera over. Aela’s hand lifted and pressed something to her mouth, forcing her teeth to part so she could fit it in. The earthy taste of leather scraped across her tongue. “Bite,” The Huntress commanded, and Mera dumbly did as she was told. 

A firm hand grasped her right shoulder and  _ pushed _ , and Mera muffled a scream into the leather strip as Aela popped her shoulder into place. Her body arched off the ground, legs scrabbling and slipping in the wet snow as her vision went white with pain. 

“Your shoulder was dislocated. Mera? Shit,” Aela’s hand moved to her right side where blood was slowly oozing from her freshly opened wounds. In the background, she could hear muffled male voices, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. 

“Aela,” Mera slurred, the pain and blood loss muddying her brain, making it hard to think and focus. 

Aela didn’t respond, jumping up to her feet. “Vilkas! Farkas! She’s losing blood.”

Loud footsteps pounded in the snow, rushing over to where she lay on the ground. 

“Cold,” Mera murmured for no one in particular to hear. 

“Do either of you have any cloth?” Aela asked, and Mera perked up a bit. 

“Bag,” she managed, and Aela lifted her just enough to get to the pack on her hip. 

“Clothes.” Mera spoke again, just as Aela pulled out a worn common dress. 

Catching her meaning, Aela drew her dager, and started cutting strips. “Get her armor off,” she commanded, and after a moment of no movement, she barked, “Now, Farkas!” 

Rough, clumsy hands pulled at her armor, stripping her with little grace. Had she not been in so much danger, she would have loved to see the uncomfortable, bashful blush on Farkas’ face. She shuddered as her skin was bared to the harsh cold of the mountains, but she hardly had time to register it before Aela was back to manhandling her. The Nordic woman wrapped her toros tightly with the cloth she had cut, putting harsh pressure on her wounds to keep them from bleeding freely. In and instant, Aela’s quick, archer’s hands were dressing her again, haphazardly covering her back up with her armor to protect her from the elements.

She felt herself being lifted, large arms wrapped around her torso until she was upright and her feet were planted on the earth. “Can you-” Farkas started, only to stop himself as her knees buckled and gave out under her weight. She shook from the sudden drop from adrenaline, and could barely keep herself up, and Farkas caught her and supported most of her weight.

“She can’t walk,” Aela hissed several curses under her breath. “We need to get her down the mountain and to a healer. Mera! Stay awake!” 

The Dragonborn’s vision was clouding, and her head slumped heavily. “Mm,” she murmured, trying to shake herself awake. 

“Mera!”

“Give her here,” a masculine voice spoke, and even in her haze she recognized Vilkas’ gruff tone. 

“Are you human enough?” 

“I’m fine.”

“Is your arm-”

“I said give her!”

Mera felt herself being shifted before strong arms scooped her up, holding her close to a large chest. She turned her head into the body mass beside her, the cold steal feeling unpleasant against her face, but much better than the wetness of the snow beneath them. 

“Let’s move.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little short, but I promise the next will be longer! I had a lot of fun writing these next to chapters, so I really hope you like them. 
> 
> Your comments water my crops, clear my skin and cure my depression. Keep them coming!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something's shifted in the moons, sister  
> like, something is different here.

Mera was fading in his arms. A deep frown found its way onto Vilkas’ face as the finally reached the bottom of the steps and into the pilgrim's town of Ivarstead. There wouldn’t be a healer here, not in a hamlet this small. They couldn’t stop here for the night, but the later it got, the more dangerous the roads would get. They were in the Rift, now, and the Hold was filled with thieves who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of the weakened state of their party. 

He looked down at his cargo, and noticed her eyes were drifting closed again. “Mera,” he shook her gently, but got no response. 

“She's still breathing, Vilkas. She needs the rest. We'll stop at the inn and check her wounds, and then we'll head to the nearest city.”

“Riften should be closest,” his brother spoke up from behind him as the slowed their jog and approached the inn. “Haven't been to Riften in over a year,” 

“And for good reason,” Vilkas grit, shifting Mera's dead weight in his arms. “Few people there are hiring Companions to deal with anything with the Thieves Guild on the rise there. Them and their “protection”.” 

Farkas shrugged and sprinted ahead to hold the door open for him. Aela quickly moved to the counter, speaking to the innkeep with quick, hushed words and small gestures, ending with handing over a small bag of coin. The woman nodded, handed her a small bottle, and pointed her to a room. 

“Hurry,” the she-wolf lead them into the room and closed the door. 

Vilkas laid Mera down on the bed, and she stirred, grunting while her eyes fluttered open. 

“Help me sit her up,” Aela commanded, and Farkas quickly moved to help. Vilkas moved to the wall, leaning on it while watching the door for any intruders. 

At the bed, Aela whispered hushed words to Mera, and held the red bottle to her lips. A potion of healing, then. Good. At the very least it would keep her from bleeding until they made it to Riften. 

“I'll be back. I'm going to see if anyone in this town has herbs or clean wraps we can use to bandage her with until we get to Riften.” Aela stood with grace and left the room without another word. 

“... She'll be fine,” Vilkas said as he watched his brother hover near the bed, where Mera was already sleeping.

“Aye, I know she will be. She always is.” After another lingering moment, Farkas took a seat in one of the available chairs in the room. “...Can you believe she really so Kodlak?” 

Vilkas closed his eyes. It was strange to think about, a mortal visiting the dead in Sovngarde, seeing the Hall of Valor and living to tell the tale. It almost seemed cruel to give someone all that, only to rip it away and force them back into the harsh reality of Nirn.

“I'm glad to hear he really did make it to Sovngarde. Even after all this time, I've been skeptical of our success in Ysgramor’s tomb. It's where he belongs.” Vilkas signed and looked back to his brother, who had his eyes fixed firmly on Mera's resting form. He glanced at her too, and couldn't help but notice the irony of how restful she looked. Were those of the beast blood doomed to a life of only finding comfort from grave injury? It was sad, and he felt his desire to cure himself be renewed with a new vigor. 

A gasp startled both brothers to look to the bed. Mera’s eyes shot open wide, and she abruptly tried to sit up straight. Vilkas was on her before she could, gently but firmly keeping a hand on her shoulder, forcing her to lay flat. 

“Stay down,” he forced his voice to be softer than usual, as to not spook her as she tried to get a handle on her surroundings. “You’re safe.” 

She searched him for a panicked moment, before she recognized his face and accepted his words. Her normally bright blue eyes were dull, most likely from the potion Aela had given her, and she blinked slowly. 

“Vilkas,” she said, voice soft, and he shifted uneasily. He was no good at this, and he turned to look to his brother, whose eyes were fixed on their Harbinger. “Shoulda been you,” she continued. 

“Hm?” He turned back to face her, confused by her words. 

“Kodlak. He made a mistake,” 

_ Oh _ , that’s what this was about. “Mera, Kodlak chose you for a reason. He-”

“When I saw him,” she licked her dry lips, and Vilkas turned to Farkas, extending a hand. His brother understood, and grabbed the bottle of mead from the table and tossed it to him. Vilkas helped her sit up after cracking it open, and she drank before he let her back down. “When I saw him,” she continued, voice less raw now that she’d had something to drink, “he said I was bringing honor to the Companions. Honorable.” Mera laughed humorlessly, and the sound made Vilkas uncomfortable. 

“Mera…” Vilkas heard his brother stand and walk to the bed. He was glad to have Farkas beside him. He was kinder than Vilkas ever was, more in tune with the feelings of others. A dry joke about dogs understanding human emotions drifted through Vilkas’ head before his attention was brought back to the Harbinger. 

“I’m not honorable,” she said frankly, dull eyes looking to both of the brothers before closing. “I’m not honorable,” she repeated, weaker this time. 

“Says who?” Farkas gruffly asked, sounding more like a protective older brother than he realized. 

“Me,” she said miserably. “There are so many reasons. So many. Gods, you can’t…” Mera wrestled with something internal, mouth hanging open. “As if me being a thief isn’t cause enough for that.” 

Both brothers stiffened. They knew that Mera was less than honest with how she earned her money. She’d told them once, drunkenly in a fit of tears, of how she trained with the Thieves Guild to better master all of the skills she needed on her journey as Dragonborn. They’d both readily accepted her, even with how uncomfortable it made them. They hadn’t spoken of it out loud since then. 

“You needed to. It was for-” 

She cut Farkas off with a slight wave of her hand, the most movement she seemed to be able to muster. “It’s more than that,” Mera seemed to struggle with something, like she couldn’t find the words. “The beast blood. It’s hard, you both know it’s hard to control it.” 

“Aye, but that doesn’t make you less. Kodlak had it, so has nearly every Harbinger before him. If you think those with the blood can’t have honor, what does that make him?” Vilkas argued, but Mera shook her head. 

“No, you misunderstand. Beast blood is hard to control, and it’s only a wolf.” Only. Vilkas wanted to laugh. What was so only about having a monster inside you, ready to jump out when you got too hot, too angry? When Mera spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper. “The dragon blood calls me.”

“Oh,” Farkas said out loud, clearly as blindsided as Vilkas was, though at least he had the restraint to internalize his surprise. 

“I like stealing. I like having shiny things. Gold…. I love gold,” she closed her eyes, audibly exhaling through her nose. “But what I crave more is power. Divines help me, I’m drawn to it. Dragons… they need to rule. Dominate. Kill and show their power. I’ve spoken with them. For every one it’s the same. They tell me that I’ll feel it, too. And I do.” Mera opened her eyes again, focusing her gaze on Vilkas, her eyes sharper than they were before. “I see the position as Harbinger as another position of power for me to hoard, and I know that is  _ not  _ what a Harbinger is for. There are no masters in the Companions, but I fear I will become one. The wolf in me has already begun to see itself as Alpha.” 

Now things were beginning to come together. She struggled to control the blood of a beast greater than what the rest of them had ever dealt with. In a sad, funny way, her admitting out loud her struggle and being willing to part with the position showed the honor she thought she lacked. Vilkas would have laughed if it wasn’t so bitter. 

Behind them, the door opened, and Vilkas glanced behind him just to confirm it was Aela who’d come inside. She opened her mouth to question them, but Vilkas shook his head. Later. 

“Vilkas,” Mera spoke, bringing his attention back to the bed. She looked like she was in more pain, now. The healing potion from before was probably wearing off. They needed to get her out of here, soon. “It should be you. I want it to be you. I can’t. I tried so hard to be what Kodlak wanted me to be, but I can’t. I need to stop this now, before I’m in too deep.” 

“By the Divines, what is she talked about?” Aela hissed the words, and Vilkas could hear the fire in her voice. 

“Aela,” Mera tried to lift her head to see the Huntress. “ I don’t have the strength right now to tell it again. Later. I promise later. Or they’ll explain. Vilkas,  _ please _ ,” she turned her attention back to him, and Vilkas hung his head. 

“We’ll discuss this when you’re healed.” He finally answered, and he watched as tension left his brother’s shoulders. 

“Okay… okay.” She nodded, closing her eyes. 

Vilkas used his head to call Aela over, who immediately got to work. She had more potions, which was good, and clean wrappings to dress her in. Vilkas excused himself from the room, wanting to give her privacy as Aela stripped her of her armor again. Farkas followed close behind, speaking only when the door was closed. 

“Are you going to-” 

“Later.” Vilkas grunted, and Farkas thankfully let the subject fall. 

After some time, Aela stepped out of the small room, wiping her hands clean on a cloth. They were still red with blood. 

“She’s no longer bleeding.” She announced as she leaned against the door. 

“Good, that’s good.” Vilkas sighed, glad for some good news. 

“We can stay here for the night before heading to Riften.”

“We’re still going to Riften?” Farkas asked, and Aela nodded. 

“I don’t think it wise to take her through the mountain path to Riverwood. At Riften, we can seek aid at the Temple of Mara and then hire a cart back to Whiterun.” 

“Smart.” Vilkas agreed. He wasn’t happy to be out of Whiterun for so long, but they needed to take things slow after this incident. 

“Are you two going to tell me what that was about?” Aela asked, impatience lacing through her voice. 

Vilkas knew the question was coming, but he still sighed. “Aye, I’ll tell you, but only once I have a drink in my hand.” 

“I think that can be arranged.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised you a longer chapter didn't I?  
> Looks like they're headed to Riften, and you know what that means! Can't write a dragonborn story without a visit to the famous Riften fishery, am I right fellow skyrim fiends? Haha
> 
> I really liked writing this chapter. Trying a different perspective was really fun, and I loved trying to see things from Vilkas' perspective. I'll probably keep throwing in new perspectives every once and a while if this goes over well. 
> 
> I always felt like my Dragonborn was uncomfortable leading the Companions. She really struggles with the urges of Dragons, and she feels like it dishonors them to have her as Harbinger :(
> 
> As always, please comment if you liked this. Or, if you didn't, and you want to let me know what I could be doing better. I love your feedback.


	8. Chapter 8

_ Shouting. Fighting. Fear. Soldiers.  _

_ Mera twists, eyes wide in the middle of it all, being dragged by her collar by an officer. Her head spins, vision swimming as she tries to focus on something, anything.  _

_ Blue, grey, brown, tan. Soldiers surrender, arms high in the air.  _

_ How did she get here?  _

_ “Load them up!” A voice calls, and she panics, eyes going wide. No, she can’t be captured. She tries to shake herself free, before a harsh, blunt pain hits her in the back of the head.  _

_ Her vision goes dark.  _

Mera woke up, and she felt every inch of her body. Her ride side ached with a dull heat, and her shoulder throbbed with muscle pain. Beneath her, the earth rocked. 

No. 

Beneath her, a horse moved, and her body lifted up and down with its steps. Her face was pressed to its neck, half hidden in its hair. Groggily, she blinked, and attempted to raise herself up. 

A hand steadied her from behind. 

“Easy, sister,” Aela. She looked down at her right. Vilkas. Farkas to her left. 

Mera opened her mouth, attempting to speak, but ended up smacking her lips. They were chapped, throat and tongue dry with sleep. 

“Give the wine here, you oaf,” Aela commanded, and Farkas fell back a step, holding the bottle out to Mera to grab. 

Mera sat up straight, feeling Aela’s hands on her hips supporting her should she lean too far to the side. She took the bottle from Farkas, and took a long, harty swig, letting the wine ash over her and hydrate her parched throat. 

“Welcome back,” Farkas said, a lopsided grin on his face. 

Mera returned it weakly, feeling more alert now that she’d had something to drink. “Where…?” She started, looking up to the sky to try and find the position of the sun. It was late morning, but the trees around them said they were no closer to Whiterun hold. It still looked like the Rift. 

“We’re still in the Rift,” Vilkas started, as if he sensed her confusion. “We didn’t think it wise to take you through the mountain pass to Whiterun. We’re going to stop at Riften.” 

Riften. Mera’s heart skipped a beat. She’d been eager to return to Riften since she’d defeated the World Eater, but she hadn’t though it would be so soon, or like this. “I have a house in Riften,” She said to fill the silence, and Farkas looked up, eyebrows raised high. 

“Don’t you have a home in Whiterun?”

“And in Falkreath,” Mera shrugged. “Jarls like the idea of claiming the Dragonborn holds residence in their city.” Farkas nodded, accepting her answer as the continued on. “We can stay there.”

In the distance, Mera could see the Riften gates, and her heart fluttered at the sight. It felt like coming home. Aela placed a hand on her shoulder, and Mera didn’t need to look back to know what she was thinking. Out of all the Companions, Mera had been the most open with her shield-sister about her life in Riften, and the people who were involved in it. She felt a pair and hot breath near her ear, a whisper so low that she doubted even the enhanced hearing of the werewolves below them could hear it. 

“Will I finally get to meet the thief?” Mera could hear the smirk in her voice. 

“Hush, you.” With her good arm, Mera elbowed Aela behind her, and the Huntress laughed. 

As they approached the gate, Aela steered the horse to the stables. “Easy, girl,” Aela said as they came to a stop.

Mera felt cold when the warmth from behind her disappeared as Aela dismounted. “Let me help you,” Farkas asked, arms ready to grab Mera and help her down. 

Her pride burned at the thought of needing help off of a horse, but it would be worse if she actually injured herself in such a simple task. Wordlessly, she nodded, and Farkas used his height and strength to pull her off the horse and put her on the ground with a surprising gentleness. 

Farkas and Vilkas walked in front of her, heading to the gate with confident strides. Mera moved to take a step forward, and grunted at the pain that shot up through her side. Aela moved to her injured side, and let her put an arm on her shoulder for support, which she was beyond grateful for. 

“Halt! If you want to enter the city, you need to pay the visitors tax.” A voice called from the gate, and Mera groaned. 

“Lemme go,” Mera muttered to Aela, wanting to be able to on her own to deal with this. 

“Visitors tax?” Vilkas scoffed audibly, “I’ve never heard of a Riften visitors tax.”

“Well-” The guard started, but Mera chose that moment to gently push her way past the boys and into the front of the party. 

“Watch who you’re speaking to, guardsman,” Mera spoke, attempting to stand tall and appear as strong as possible. She felt sweat growing on her brow from the effort. “I wasn’t aware that residence had to pay a  _ fee _ .” 

Beneath his helmet, the guard’s eyes widened in recognition. “My apologies, ma’am. You’re good to head inside.” 

Aela moved beside her, in case she needed the support again, but Mera shook her head, choosing to take slow steps independently as they headed inside. 

Riften was exactly as it was when she left. Maul stalked the area near the gates, sending a nod her way as she walked in and shooting suspicious glares at the Companions who followed her. Even as far as she was, she could hear the shouting of merchants in the marketplace, attempting to sell their wares. She turned left at the Bee and Barb, down one of Riften’s quieter paths, and walked directly to Honeyside. 

Mera leaned heavily on the door as she got there, breathing heavily from the effort it took to stay on her feet. She  _ hurt _ . Everything hurt. All she had to do was get inside. Then she could collapse. She fished for the key in her pack, pulling it out with a relieved sigh as she moved to unlock the door. 

The front door swung open with ease, and she took a step inside, gesturing for the Companions to follow her inside. She breathed in the familiar scent of the hearth, the worn wood and the damp smell of earth that filtered through the entire building and a tired smile found its way onto her face. “Home sweet home,” She said aloud, voice sound weaker than she had intended. She closed the distance between her and the bed and collapsed onto it, eager to get off her feet. 

“Cozy,” Aela spoke with a lightness in her voice as she made her way inside. Farkas followed and Vilkas closed the door behind him. 

“Damn thieves… ‘visitors tax’... hmph.” Vilkas muttered, shaking his head. 

“Before,” Mera had to pause to take a breath, closing her eyes to gather herself. “Before anything else, I need you to know that next to nobody here knows that I am the Dragonborn. I’d like to keep it that way.” 

“Why?” Farkas asked as he lowered himself into a chair. 

“I’ve built my reputation here from scratch. I earned it from my actions, not because the Divines gave me dragon’s blood. The guard at the gate didn’t let us in because he was afraid I would shout him to pieces. He did it because of respect.” 

“That is an honorable way to go about it,” Aela said, and Mera smiled. 

“I don’t get to have that in Whiterun. After becoming a Companion, I felt like I had earned their respect, but really, the guards still whisper when I walk past, all because I stood close enough to a dragon’s corpse to absorb its soul.” 

Whatever their opinions on the matter, her answer seemed to satisfy the Companions. 

“One of us needs to go get a healer. Healing potions would be useful, too.” Aela announced, hands on her hips. 

“I’ll head to the Temple of Mara and see if I can find a priest,” Farkas volunteered, standing up. 

“The alchemist is on the lower docks,” Mera supplied. “Right below us, actually, on the other side of the docks.” 

“Vilkas, if you could,” Aela started. “I’m going to help Mera get into more appropriate clothing.” 

“Alright, I’ll head down.” 

“There’s gold in the safe box beside you,” Mera supplied. “A priest should come easily, it’s their job. And I donate regularly to the temple. Elgrim is a bit of an ass, but he makes good potions. Use my money for it.” 

“Mera, we have money,” Vilkas rolled his eyes as if he was insulted by her offer. 

“As do I. Take it, Vilkas,” her tone left no room for argument. 

Vilkas sighed, took a handful of septims, and left alongside his brother. 

Aela went through her wardrobe, searching haphazardly for whatever it was she was looking for. She pulled out a men's fine shirt and trousers, a few sizes too large to ever fit Mera comfortably. Aela shot her a look, a teasing smile on her face as she tossed them to the bed. 

“These will do. Easier access to your wounds than a dress. Come on, get up. I’ll help you with the clasps.” 

Mera pouted, much too comfortable to want to stand again, but she knew it was necessary. When the twins came back, hopefully with a priest, they would need to have access to the wounds at her side to figure out how sever the damage was. Healing magic would be useful, and would helpfully clear up any major issues. 

She stood, and Aela moved behind her, helping unclasp the pieces that held the dragon armor together. She was upset by how damaged it was from her fight. She’d crafted the armor herself, slaving over every imperfection. She’d have to make a new pair, if she couldn’t salvage these. 

“I doubt you purchased those shirts for yourself,” Aela started, mischief lacing her voice. 

“Aela,” Mera warned, but it sounded weak to her own ears. Gods she was tired. 

“I’m just saying. You made your relationship with him seem to casual. There’s nothing casual about a man leaving clothing in your house.”

“Aela,” she sighed again as the Huntress helped her take off her top. “I swear on the Divines, it’s hardly as serious as it seems. Before I left for Sovngarde, we hadn’t spoken properly in months.” 

“Hmm,” Aela hummed thoughtfully as she walked around to face Mera. Her eyes drifted down to where the wrappings covered her wounds, and Mera caught the twitch of a frown on her lips. “Well, consider me unconvinced.” 

Mera snatched the shirt from her with her good arm and carefully slipped it on. It smelt like Brynjolf, and she frowned. 

“Are you going to come back with us to Whiterun?” Aela asked as Mera took the armor off her legs. 

“Why would you ask that?” 

“You have a home here, and people who can take care of you, the same as in Whiterun. Why make the trip if you don’t have to. It’s not like you have much energy for travel.” 

Mera frowned as she slipped on the soft trousers. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t considered it. “I’m not ready to make that decision yet.”

“You better decide quickly, sister.” Aela crossed her arms over her chest as Mera slowly sank back down and onto the bed. “Those two will want to head home as soon as possible. We can’t afford to leave the whelps on their own for so long. No one’s there to hand out jobs if we’re here. Only a matter of time before the young ones start to get restless.” 

“It would be selfish of me to keep you here any longer than strictly necessary,” Mera sighed, closing her eyes as she settled down, laying flat. She hissed through her teeth as she aggravated her right shoulder, a pounding hot ache spiking through her.

“You’ll have a few days to decide.” Aela said as her eyes scanned her over. “It’d be foolish of us to try and leave too soon. You need a few day’s rest, first.”

“Yes, and there are things I’d like to discuss with the three of you before heading back to Jorrvaskr as well.” 

“Mera, if this is about what you said last night-” 

Aela was cut off by the door opening. Vilkas stepped inside with a small sack. “I bought him out,” he announced as he stepped in. He placed them on the table, eyeing Aela and Mera cautiously. “What’s going on?” 

As if on cue, Farkas walked in with Maramal at his side. The Redgaurd’s eyes were wide as he approached the bed, ready to work. “What ales you, my daughter?” He asked, and before Mera could respond, Aela spoke. 

“We’re going to go to the inn, give you some privacy and rent rooms for the evening. I’ll be back every few hours to check on you. Shout if you need us.” 

“Take a key,” Mera called at the Companions as they left before turning her attention to the eager priest. She hoped his magic could help her. Divines knew she needed it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm done with my backlog of chapters now, so updates might not keep coming as quickly as they are now. 
> 
> I hope you like this chapter, but I'm more excited for what comes next. Finally off High Hrothgar and into our next setting. Exciting stuff!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't, yet, go back and read my other story, An Overdue Confession, before reading this chapter.

Mera dozed after the priest left her, fading in and out of consciousness. The magic eased her pain, but it made her tired. Aela came in at least once, laying a hand on her forehead to check how she was fairing. 

When she woke again, the room was much darker than before, lacking the natural light that filtered through the one window. The hearth was lit however, and she guessed that Aela had come in and stoked the flames to life, warming the small space. 

Mera pulled herself up right, feeling her stomach rumble and she wondered when the last time she ate was. Her body ached as she slipped out of bed, standing slowly as to give her body time to adjust. She felt her wounds pull slightly with the movement. The priest had warned her against sudden and forceful movements, but barring any other incidents, she would be fine. 

She would be fine. The thought rushed through her like a breath of fresh air as she moved to sit at the small table in her home. When she was up on High Hrothgar, hiding far above Skyrim and the troubles there, she had felt disconnected. Safe, yes, but so distant from her life, friends and responsibilities. Now that she was down, back with her feet planted firmly on Nirn, she felt like she could maybe, perhaps, go back to living her life the way it was. 

At least part of the way. 

She wasn’t sure if she could ever go back to the way things were  fully. Being a dragon slaying, Companion leading, shadow hiding thief-warrior sounded exhausting, let alone impossible. Now that she knew a library of words of power and had the respect (friendship?) of Paarthurnax and Odahviing, she felt less of a drive to hunt and kill dragons. The mass display of respect from dragons from all over the region from when she had defeated Alduin stuck with her. Maybe she could co-exist with her blood kin. Could it be possible? 

Mera shook her head.  She was getting ahead of herself. First, there was the issue of the Companions to deal with. She had to wait for her injuries to heal and let the Jarls know that the larger dragon threat had been dealt with, and what they should expect from it. Then she could deal with hypotheticals of her future and her place amongst the  _ dov _ . 

With a small knife, she cut herself a piece of cheese and laid it on top of bread. She took a bite and closed her eyes, trying to savor the flavor. It tasted so much fresher here than it did on High Hrothgar. Probably because it  _ was _ , she reminded herself with a curt shake of her head. With her stomach full, she stood and moved with careful steps back to bed. 

Exhaustion still nagged at her, even with how much she'd slept. It was better this way; she'd rather be tired than restless. Carefully, she laid herself down on her left side, facing the wardrobe that rested in front of the stairway. She let her eyes fall closed, thinking that the next time she woke, she could try and read the book Master Arngeir had given her. 

She was just starting to drift when she heard the familiar sound of a lock clicking from behind her. 

Suddenly she was very, very awake. 

Mera tried not move too much as she slipped her right hand under her pillow, where she always kept dagger ready, just in case. She wrapped her hand around the glass handle, gripping it tightly. A weight pressed on the edge of the bed, and she moved. 

She swung her body around, lunging with the dagger, swiping more as a warning than an attempt to actually hurt whoever was there. Instantly, her right side flared up in pain as her shoulder protested the harsh movement, and she cried out just as the intruder grabbed her wrist, stopping her swing short. 

“Ah!” she yelled, dropping the dagger from the shock of the pain, and the hand tightened on her wrist. 

“Easy, lass!” A familiar voice shouted, and Mera froze. 

Her eyes were wide as she searched his face, going from the emerald eyes to the ginger scruff. 

“ _ Brynjolf _ ,” she breathed his name, feeling the fear from before leave as quickly as it came. 

“Aye, its me. Easy there, Mera,” Brynjolf laughed, a hint of nerves tinting the usually light sound. 

As much as she wanted to, she knew better than to use her right arm, so when she lunged towards him, she relied solely on the left to wrap around him completely, pulling him close and burying her face in his shoulder. 

There's a split second where he tensed before he carefully wraped both his arms around her, too, gently, like he was afraid he would hurt her. He placed a hand behind her head, and held her where she hid her face against him. 

They sat like that in silence for a long moment before Brynjolf spoke, his brogue soft in her ear. “I got your letter,”

She pulled back, then, hand going up to wipe her eyes. “Good,” she said, voice weak before she repeated, “Good. I’d hoped you had.” 

“Aye. Had me worried there, lass. Injured and stranded on the top of a mountain… I nearly went up to fetch you myself.” 

A playful smile found its way onto her lips. “As if you could have made it up and down the seven thousand steps with my dead weight. You would have gotten us both killed.” 

“Lass, have a little faith!” He put a hand over his chest in mock offense. “I’m a very capable fighter.” 

“I know you are,” she said more sincerely. 

“...How did you get down the mountain so quickly, anyway? By your account, you seemed to think you’d be up there for a month if not more. It’s hardly been a week.” 

Mera nodded, “If I had to make it down alone, it would have been. The Companions came - the inner Circle - and escorted me down the mountain.” 

Mera had mentioned the Companions to Brynjolf and other members of the Thieves Guild in passing. She assumed most of them thought she was a former member, but Brynjolf hardly seemed surprised at her mentioning them. 

“Do I have to worry about a warrior bursting in here under the impression that I’ve broken in and snuck into your bed?” he joked, and she laughed. 

“First of all, you just described exactly what you did - except you were hardly sneaky. I heard you pick the lock, you oaf. Some sneak thief you are.” Brynjolf scowled at her, and she grinned wickedly. “And I don’t know… you do look kind of roguish. And me, defenseless in my night clothes - they might come in swords swinging.” She leaned closer to him as she spoke and the thief rolled his eyes. 

“Mera,” he warned and she laughed. It was easy to laugh with him, easier than it was with anyone else. 

“Fine, fine. No, you’re fine. They’ve most likely checked in for the night at the Bee and Barb now that they’re sure I won’t bleed out in my sleep.” 

At her words, a thin lipped frown found its way onto her face. “It was that bad, then?” 

She looked down at her blankets, distracting herself from the serious look on his face by examining the patterns in the threading. “...Yes, it was. When… when I killed Alduin, I thought I was going to die. I’m still shocked that I didn’t,” she shook her head, not wanting to think of Sovngarde or what had happened there. “I aggravated my wounds on the way down the mountain. Dislocated my shoulder, too.” 

Brynjolf’s eyes flickered to her side, and then back to her face, the frown as prevalent as ever. “Can I see?” he finally asked, his voice low. 

She hesitated for a moment, unsure. She’d hardly looked at the wounds herself. They weren’t easy to see from any comfortable angle, and someone else had always been there to quickly wrap it in bandages, an action she struggled to do herself, especially now that her shoulder was so bruised. 

Now, however, the bandages were off. Maramal had done an excellent job at healing her, and when he was finished, he hadn’t rebandaged her, thinking the wrappings unnecessary in her current state. 

Mera closed her eyes, let out a sigh, and used her left arm to slowly lift up the shirt she was wearing until it was just below her breasts. 

Her entire torso, from her ribs to her hips, were covered in healing puncture marks from where Alduin had sunk his fangs into her flesh. Maramal had succeeded in making them look less gruesome so that they were no longer gaping at her side, but the skin was still raw, tattered and pink. Again, she thought of how lucky she was that she hadn’t been fighting alone. Had Alduin had the chance to fully bite down, to lock his grip, lift her up and  _ shake _ , like she’d seen dragons do to so many unfortunate guards and bandits in the past, she would have died for sure. And Skyrim would have been lost. Everything would have been lost. 

She shook herself, forcing her mind out of the downward spiral before it could go any further. It was done. She’d won, there was no sense fretting on it anymore. 

Mera felt cool fingers touch her exposed skin and she gasped, so suddenly pulled out of her own head and back into Honeyside, where Brynjolf was gently touching her stomach just beside one of the larger wounds. 

“Damned dragon really tried to take me with him,” she laughed humorlessly, and Brynjolf’s emerald eyes flickered from her wounds up to hers. 

“You’ve always been reckless,” 

His voice was tired, and she thought back to Goldenglow, when she’d come hobbling into the Cistern, beaten, bruised, and soaked to the bone, but grinning with her spoils in hand. Mercer was happy for a job well done - or as happy as Mercer ever could be - but Brynjolf had scolded her for acting more like a foolish warrior than a clever thief. 

His thumb smoothed over the skin just below her right breast as his palm flattened beneath her bruised ribs and she felt the blush crawl into her cheeks at the intimacy of it, but it faded when she looked at his face. His eyes had gone back to her wounds, and frown lines settled between his eyebrows.

Mera wasn’t quite sure how old she was, but a solid guess would put her between twenty and thirty, most likely dancing somewhere in the the middle. Brynjolf, as someone well into his thirties, was likely about ten years her senior, give or take. It didn’t bother her, and she rarely even noticed their age difference, but worry aged him, and she felt discomfort grip her stomach at the sight of his sadness. 

“Bryn,” She said his name softly, reaching out to cup his chin in her hand, lifting his head to tear his gaze off her side and to her eyes. “I’m okay.”

His emerald eyes searched hers, looking for any sign that she might be lying, before a wiry smile pulled at his lips.“Well don’t go scaring me so badly next time, lass. I thought I was going to have to actually become Guild Master,” He made a face, and she laughed easily. 

“Oh, what, don’t want to be the big boss man? I figured it’d suit your ego well.” 

Brynjolf moved his hand off her side and brought it to her shoulder where he gave her a playful shove, bringing more much needed laughter. 

“You’ll need to make a trip down the Cistern soon. Vex is starting to get irritated with your constant absence,”

“What else is new?” 

“...And even Delvin’s mentioned something about it to me. It’s been months since you’ve really been around, lass, and people are starting to wonder why.”

“You didn’t tell them?” Mera asked, a frown pulling at her lips. She hadn’t told him to fully explain to the Guild what had happened, but when she explained how long it would be before her tentative return, she thought he would have told everyone about her being Dragonborn. 

“No, I didn’t. You said you were alive in your note. I’ve been running interference, explaining that you had serious business to take care of, but it's your story to choose to tell.” As he explained, she couldn’t help but feel grateful. 

“Aw, Bryn, you’ve been covering for me? What did I do to deserve you?” She raised her hand, attempting to playfully grip at his face, but he swatted it away before she could, hiding a smile. 

“You can thank me anytime you’d like. But I do think you should tell them. I don’t like lying to Guild about what’s been going on, especially so soon after… Mercer. Not that this is at all the same, but I can see it’s causing unease.” 

Mera sighed, moving her good arm up to run her fingers through her hair. It was getting long, too long. Some days she woke up and thought about chopping it all off, but that was a problem for later. “You’re right. I’ll tell them, I will. Once I can make it down the ladder.” She tried to joke, and Brynjolf rolled his eyes. “Stop!” She laughed, “I’m not trying to kill myself climbing down into the damn sewers. I’d invite Vex and Delv up here, but… I should probably tell the whole Guild. All at once.” 

“If you’re hesitant, you could just tell Delvin and Vex and tell the rest later. Sapphire, Rune, Niruin, Cynric, and Etienne especially, they all trust you. I’m sure they could wait. Especially if you’re keen on keeping this…  _ quiet _ .” 

Mera paused, yawning as she mulled it over. It would be easier to call the senior members up and into Honeyside while she was still injured and then explain everything. Especially with Brynjolf by her side, who they both trusted as much as thieves could trust anyone. “I’ll think about it, alright? I’ll let you know.”

Brynjolf nodded, satisfied with her answer. “Just give me the word and I’ll drag them both up top. Vex could probably use the sun,” he joked, and she sputtered out her laugh. 

“Don’t you dare let her hear you say that, Brynjolf, I swear… She’ll probably cut your hand off.” 

“You’re right. Keep it secret for me, lass, will you?” He leaned forward, invading her space as he raised his eyebrows expectantly and she rolled her eyes. 

“Alright, considering you kept me saving the whole world a secret, I can keep this quiet. But don’t go saying that again or I will tell her, even if it’s just to get on her good side.” 

Brynjolf laughed loudly, pulling back. “Alright, deal.” 

Mera laughed too, a bit too heartily, and she cut herself off abruptly as pain shot through her ribs. “Damn,” she hissed, arm going up to clutch at her side. Brynjolf stopped, the frown back from before in all its glory. 

“You need rest.” 

“I  _ was  _ resting until you broke into my house.” 

“Quiet, you love that I came to visit you.” 

“Your point?” 

Brynjolf pressed at her shoulder gently, trying to get her to lay down. “Come on, lass. I think it’s past your bedtime.” 

“Ass,” Mera yawned, but she laid down anyway. “Come back tomorrow, alright? I’ll let you know about Delvin and Vex.” 

Brynjolf stood, one hand behind his back and the other crossing over his chest. “Cross my heart, I’ll be back tomorrow.” 

“Brynjolf,” She stopped him before he could open the door. 

“Yes, Mera?” 

“Put back the necklace.” 

Brynjolf grinned impishly, pulling his hand out from behind his back and placing whatever he was holding on the table. “Sharp as ever, lass.” 

“ _ Goodnight _ , Brynjolf!” She shouted, just as he opened the door and slipped back out into the dark of the night. 

Mera tucked herself back into bed, pulling the blankets around her as her eyes grew heavy. Still, she couldn’t help the smile that settled on her lips as she fell back asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brynjolf's here! I've been eager to bring him in since I started the story so I'm happy to finally get to this point. 
> 
> If you haven't seen it yet, I posted an official time line for this series. I recommend you check it out if you're at all confused about when things are taking place in Mera's life. 
> 
> As always, I love seeing your comments. They help me thrive and find the motivation to write more. Keep em coming! 
> 
> I'll try and update soon!


	10. Chapter 10

Mera woke to the sound of her door swinging open roughly. She opened her eyes groggily and blinked, trying to clear herself of the sleep that clung to her. Farkas, Aela, and Vilkas came piling through the front door, looking more like a pack of dogs barreling in than warriors of Jorrvaskr. She loved them for it. 

She sat up, a question on her lips before Farkas cut her off. 

“Heads up,” he actually gave her a moment to ready herself before he tossed a sweetroll her way. “Breakfast.” 

She caught the treat one handed, and held it in her lap. “Thanks. I need that,” she yawned before taking a bite from the roll. “You three get on alright last night? Keerava treat you right?” 

Aela rolled her eyes, shoving Vilkas slightly as the twin settled into a chair. “Oh she loved us. These two chuckle heads tried to clear her clean out of meed.” 

Farkas laughed lightheartedly and Vilkas rolled his eyes. “She’s exaggerating.” 

“I'm sure she is,” Mera laughed, shaking her head. 

“How are you feeling?” Farkas asked, leaning against the wall beside the hearth. 

“Sore,” she admitted, rolling her shoulders, “but much, much better than I did yesterday. Why don't more people study restoration?” She wondered with another shake off her head. 

“I'm glad to hear it, sister,” Aela came to sit beside her on the bed. 

“I can't thank you three enough for getting me off that mountain. Yes, it could have gone smoother, but I'm happier being here, at home.” 

“Speaking of, do you think you'll be well enough to travel soon?” Farkas asked, and Vilkas chimed in. 

“Yeah, I'm eager to get back to Jorrvaskr. The people here are…” 

“Different from what you're used to. Yes, I know.” Mera supplied, before sighing. She had to come to a decision about staying or going. She glanced as Aela, who nodded slightly. “I'm not sure if I want to go back to Whiterun with you.” 

“What? Why?” Farkas frowned, and Vilkas crossed his arms over his chest, brow furrowing. 

“Like I said.  I'm home, here. I miss everyone at Jorrvaskr, and in Whiterun, but why push myself to travel when I can be comfortable right here.” 

“It's hardly about pushing yourself,” Vilkas said. She could feel the frustration radiating off of him, and she knew he could see right through her. “We can easily get a carriage to transport us back.”

“Vilkas,” Mera sighed. “You know it's not just about the travel. I… there are other things to consider.” 

“Like?” He asked impatiently. 

“I have family here, too, know.” She could tell he wanted to argue, so she quickly continued. “Call them what you will, but they care about me too, and as far as they know I'm up dying on a mountain somewhere. And… there's the issue of Harbinger.” 

“Talos preserve, this again?” Vilkas growled. “We're not having this conversation.” 

“Yes, we are!” She bit back. Up in High Hrothgar, the beast had been quiet in her, but now that she was back, surrounded by her shield-siblings, her  _ pack _ , the wolf fought its way to the surface. His arguing brought the urge to dominate forward. How could he question the authority of his alpha. She- 

Mera shook her head wildly, trying to calm herself. “You don't understand. How could you? When I walk around Whiterun and get called  _ Harbinger _ , the rush of pride, of  _ power _ I get is enormous. I want more. I want the world to bend over at my heel, I…!” 

She cut herself off, shaking her head. She could feel it now, the rush, just talking about it. It scared her. Was this what she was meant to be? A ruler? A  _ tyrant _ ? 

She lowered her head, staring down at her lap. The room was quiet, and she spoke again, voice just higher than a whisper. “When I came back, dragons gathered at the Throat of the World. They bowed to me. Acknowledged my strength, my power. I was called overlord, in their tongue. Odahviing, the dragon we captured at Dragonsreach, promised himself to me, said I could call him at any time and he would fight for me. I could conquer all of Skyrim on dragon back if I wanted to.” 

Mera looked up, and her eyes went straight to Vilkas. He looked… scared wasn't the right word for it, but she did see fear there. “No, I don't think I'll actually try and conquer Skyrim but, well, a wise friend once told me that discipline in the lesser aids in denial of the greater. If I deny myself the… leadership role of a troop of warriors, then I can fight against those instincts that my… my blood gives me.” She thought of Paarthurnax, alone on the mountain for thousands of years, training himself into peace. Mera didn't think she could ever be peaceful, but Paarthurnax was right when asked if she could feel the call of the dragon blood in her, giving her a craving for power. 

“Kodlak wouldn't have chosen you if he didn't think you could handle it,” Vilkas said, finally, after a long beat of silence. 

“Kodlak was a great man who had faith in all of the Companions, but even he couldn't have known this. I didn't even know this, not until I got pulled farther along the path of the Dragonborn. When… when I saw him in Sovngarde, he said I brought honor to the Companions in my battle with Alduin. But all I could think of was if Alduin was the most powerful creature created by Akatosh, and I defeated him, what does that make me? Vilkas, I won't force you to take the role, but I think Kodlak chose wrong when he chose me.” 

There were other reasons. Ones she didn't even want to bring up. She was too young to be a Harbinger. She was one of the youngest companions, aside from Ria, who looked to be closest to her in range. It didn't feel appropriate for her to lead them. What life experience did she have to offer them? What guidance? She could hardly lift a greatsword, yet she was expected to look after warriors? It wasn't right. 

The room was quiet for a long time. Before Vilkas could speak, Aela did. “You think yourself dishonorable, sister, but admitting your struggles and denying yourself your desires for the good of the Companions and of Skyrim is one of the most honorable things you could do.”

A small, sad smile found it's way onto Mera's lips. “Thank you,”

She turned to look at Farkas, who shook his head. “I don't know anything about dragons blood and all that, but I do know the beast.” He paused, looking to his brother. “I get how rough it is to deny those needs. If you think this is what's best for you, who am I to argue? I don't like it, but I'll support you.” 

Finally, Mera looked to Vilkas. He sat still as a statue, scowl dominating his expression. It hurt Mera to see him like this. “I'll think about it, Mera. I don't like questioning Kodlak’s judgement. It doesn't feel right. But I'll give it some thought.” 

Mera nodded. “That's all I can ask,”

“I’d like to be on our way back to Jorrvaskr though by tomorrow morning. It's not right for us to leave them alone for so long. The whelps are probably getting into heaps of trouble.” 

Around the room, smiles creeped up on everyone's faces at Vilkas’ comment. 

“Athis has probably names himself acting leader.” Mera joked, and Aela laughed heartily at her side. 

“You think? My money is on Njada,” she said, and across the room Farkas chuckled. 

Mera took another bite from her sweetroll, relieved that the tone of the conversation lightened. Conversationally, she asked, “Have any plans for today while you're in the Rift?” 

Aela grinned. “With you well enough to be on your own, I'm going to take the opportunity to hunt. There are more predators here than in Whiterun hold. I'd love to test my strength against them.” 

Mera grinned. Typical of Aela to take to the wilds. The beast blood suited her well. “Skin a bear for me, sister,” 

“Farkas and I plan to see if the Jarl’s put any bounties out in the area. Crack a few bandit skulls.” 

“I envy the lot of you,” Mera sighed and pulled herself out of bed so she could stretched. “I'm going to be writing letters today.” 

“Letters?” Aela asked. 

“One to Jarl Balgruuf, thanking him for allowing me to keep a dragon in Dragonsreach. And then one to Ulfric Stormcloak and General Tullius, respectively. As much as I'd like for their truce to continue, it's only fair that I tell them the crisis is over.” 

“Pah,” Farkas scoffed, distaste clear in his voice. “Skyrim would be better if this whole civil war was over.” 

“A lot safer too. I'm tired of civilians getting caught up in their petty squabbles,” Aela rolled her shoulders before taking to her feet. 

“I couldn't agree more,” Mera sighed, shaking her head. “I hated even having to get involved to stall it. But it was necessary. Soldiers deserve to rest in Sovngarde when they die, not to be consumed by the World Eater. Are you heading out?” 

Aela nodded, stretching her arms and rolling her neck. “Yes, I’d like to get out there soon. Perhaps we can eat fresh game, tonight.” 

“Sounds appetizing. I can’t remember the last time I ate any meat that wasn’t dried and salted.”

“We’ll head out too, then. Leave you to your letter writing,” Vilkas stood beside his brother. 

“Come back for dinner tonight, yeah? We can eat a meal together before tomorrow.” The implied ‘before you leave’ was there, and it hung in the air before Farkas smiled. 

“Wouldn’t miss it, especially if Aela is catching it.”

“You flatter me.” 

Aela moved to the back door while Vilkas and Farkas headed to the front. “Good luck bounty hunting, and don’t you  _ dare  _ take on a dragon without me.” Mera warned, and Farkas laughed, the sound of it easy and light. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

As the three of them left, she was engulfed in silence. Normally, she welcomed the quiet that her houses brought her, her own little safe havens scattered around Skyrim, but now she found herself feeling lonely. Shaking her head, she gathered an inkwell and parchment, settling at her table while cracking her fingers. First, the letters. Then she could find something else to fill her time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the discussion of Harbinger! Mera really won't let it go :/ But she does what she thinks is best for the Companions. 
> 
> Anyway, hope ya'll enjoyed the update. Coming soon we've got a lot more Brynjolf for those of you who've been asking for him. 
> 
> Let me know what you think <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are just the letter's that Mera wrote in the last chapter, if anyone wanted to read them. Gives a bit of a clue as to her loyalties and all that jazz.

_ Ulfric, _

_ I hope this letter finds you well.  _

_ I write to bring knews of the Dragon Crisis and the situation in Whiterun. Thanks to your cooperation during the treaty negotiations, the threat has been dealt with. Dragon attacks are likely to continue in Skyrim, but at a lesser scale than before. The true threat has been neutralized, and Skyrim is safe again.  _

_ I am sending a similar letter to General Tullius to alert him of the situation. Once he receives the letter, his advances on your forces are sure to continue, and the war will be back in full swing. Please note, I have instructed the courier to deliver your letter first. Use what little time it gives you to your advantage. Consider this my thanks for your aid and for allowing the Thalmor to attend the negotiations.  _

_ Talos guide you _

_ Mera  _

 

_ General Tullius,  _

_ I write to bring knews of the Dragon Crisis and the situation in Whiterun. Thanks to your cooperation during the treaty negotiations, the threat has been dealt with. Dragon attacks are likely to continue in Skyrim, but at a lesser scale than before. The true threat has been neutralized, and Skyrim is safe again.  _

_ I have sent a letter to Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak as well to alert him to the new situation. I assume that once he receives it, the war will resume in full swing. Thank you again for your cooperation in dealing with this crisis.  _

_ Thane of Whiterun and Falkreath _

_ Dragonborn Mera _

 

_ Jarl Balgruuf,  _

_ Friend I write you with all the sincerity that I can muster through ink on paper to thank you for your aid in capturing Odahviing and bringing the Dragon Crisis to an end. You have my gratitude. Should you ever require the help of the Dragonborn, I will be there to assist you.  _

_ Be aware, I have also written both General Tullius and Ulfric Stormcloak to alert them to the change in the situation. It would be safe to assume that their efforts at the war will continue as soon as they are received.  _

_ Divines watch over you and all of Whiterun in times to come, _

_ Mera.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll have a real update for you soon, I promise!


	12. Chapter 12

 

After finding a courier and passing on her letters and instructions, Mera walked casually through Riften, enjoying the familiar sights and sounds at a slow but leisurely pace. Walking around was tiring, that much was still true, but she'd felt better than she had since returning to Nirn and she was eager to get some exercise. She passed through the graveyard, picking a single flower of nightshade and putting it in her pocket while glancing at the stone that marked the entrance to the Cistern. She hesitated there, before shaking her head and moving on.

The thought of using what little energy she had to gracelessly clamber down a ladder was unappealing. She didn't need her glorious return to be marred by her taking a spill the second she stepped foot into the Cistern.

Mera had already decided she was going to have Brynjolf bring the senior members of the Thieves Guild up topside to discuss her absence. She’d invite Delvin, Vex and Karliah, if she was around, topside to tell them everything.

She passed Ingun Black-Briar in the market, and handed her the flower with a wink. The girl took it with a smile, tucking it into her satchel. “Good to see you around, Mera,”

“It's been a while, hasn't it?”

“It has. Been off on some big adventure?”

“Always,” she said as she stepped away, waving and moving into the market. She said hello to Balimund before moving to the meadery. She bought enough bottles to feed the Companions for dinner tonight, and to hopefully pacify the situation when she met with the Guild.

She came back to Honeyside and dumped the bottles in the kitchen before falling none too gracefully onto her bed. She hissed in regret at the wave of pain the motion brought before she curled herself up under the covers. She needed a nap. Later she could plan for dinner.

* * *

 

As the sun set, dipping low into the sky and tinting the Rift orange and red, Mera stirred the pot in the hearth, lifting a small chunk of meat out of the broth with her spoon to check to see how done it was. She let it fall back into the broth, standing up straight with a hand on her hip.

“I think it’ll be done soon,” she said, turning to face Aela. “I haven’t had venison in ages.”

“It smells good, I didn’t realize you cooked.” Aela settled into a chair, holding a tankard in her hand.

“I’m not the best, but I can fend for myself,” looking at the pot, she said, “I hope I made enough. Those two could probably eat a whole elk each.”

Aela laughed, taking a drink of mead. “I’m sure it’s fine, they’ll make due. They’re probably cold if they’re still out. The stew will be good.”

“Hope so.”

Mera chewed on her lip, shifting a bit as she absently stirred the stew. After a long pause, she said, “...Do you think Vilkas will accept being Harbinger?”

“I believe you’re being foolish by giving it up.”

“Aela, I’ve already made my decision. Besides…” Mera sighed. She shifted uneasily, grappling with herself as she tried to find the words. She bit her tongue, and turned to look at Aela.

“What is it, sister?” The older woman asked, and Mera felt an ache in her heart. Of all the Circle, Mera always felt closest to her shield-sister. The woman was her forebear, and they shared blood in a way that was more directly than the rest. Aela always seemed to know when something was on her mind.

Mera couldn’t look at her when she spoke. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. “It was cruel of the gods to show me Sovngarde and then throw me back here.”

“Mera,”

“They told me my work here wasn’t done. That there would be more for me to do, but I’m _tired_ Aela. After a year of fighting, all I’ve been through… I just want a break. Rest. I think I deserve that much.”

Aela was quiet for a long moment before she spoke again. “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.”

“I knew you would.”

Aela handed her a bottle of Black-Briar mead, and Mera smiled, taking a swig before going back to the fire.

The door opened, and Farkas and Vilkas walked in.

“There you two are,” Mera forced a smile onto her face. This was not the time to sulk. “Get into any trouble?”

“We cleared some bandits out of a tower.” Farkas said dismissively, and Mera frowned.

Something about them was… off. Normally, both were the type to eagerly talk about their combative accomplishments. She furrowed her brow, looking to Vilkas. He seemed less tense than he had the past couple of days; he held his shoulders more loosely and his arms hung limply to his sides, but she saw stress and exhaustion in his dark eyes. Her frown deepened.

“Sounds productive,” Aela narrowed her eyes, taking a slow drink.

“Is that all? You were gone a long time,” Mera turned her full attention on them, ignoring the soup.

Farkas looked to his brother, who gave no visual cue that he was at all interested in answering her question. “...Some locals told us about a sabercat that kept killing livestock. Said that it lived in a cave nearby. We went to check it out.”

“Did you find it?”

Farkas shifted. “Yeah. Except it wasn’t just one cat. There were three,”

“Three?”

“And two spriggans.”

Mera knew exactly where this was going. “You shifted, didn’t you?” She sighed heavily, bringing her hands up to rub at her eyes. Had this been Aela, she wouldn’t have cared. The Huntress was known to take the best form regularly, and she enjoyed it. But Farkas and Vilkas, they tried damn hard not to yield to the beast blood, and they went so long between changes that they often let the blood get the better of them, when they did change.

“Yes, we did.” Vilkas sighed, his voice tired. Vilkas, she knew, struggled the most out of all of them with the blood. Notably, Aela said nothing.

“...You’re probably hungry then,” Mera grabbed a wooden bowl and started to spoon the stew into it. Transformations burned energy, and even if they ate as wolves, they were likely starving. “Here,” she trusted a bowl to Vilkas, who took it with a nod of thanks, before doing the same for Farkas. She passed one to Aela, who thanked her quietly, before she finally made one for herself. She wanted to offer the other seat to one of the boys, but she knew if she took to the floor, she would struggle to get back up, so she sunk into the chair opposite Aela.

Softly, she started, “If you want to talk about it…”

“We don’t.” Vilkas answered for the both of them, staring into his stew.

Mera closed her eyes and exhaled, trying to calm herself. They were so _stubborn_ , but she understood their hesitance. Vilkas previously only sought counsel from Kodlak, and she assumed he also spoke with his brother, who was much of the same. Aela was difficult to talk with about issues regarding the beast blood. She saw it as a gift, which perhaps for her it was, but it clearly plagued both brothers.

“We never did get to finish talking about… curing ourselves,” Mera approached the topic slowly, and Vilkas looked up from his bowl. Aela had her eyes fixed on her from across the table, and Farkas shifted. “Aela, I know you don’t want to cure yourself. As, uh, current Harbinger, you have my support in keeping the blood, of course. If the life of Hircine is what you want, you should keep it.”

Aela nodded her head, spooning more food into her mouth. She looked like a predator, eyes moving between everyone in the room. Mera moved her attention to Farkas and Vilkas as Farkas settled on the floor beside his brother.

“Truthfully, I don’t know if keeping the blood will affect my afterlife or not,” She shifted awkwardly. “Hircine is not the only Daedric Prince to have a hold on my soul. And, even still, when I was in Sovngarde, I don’t know… Tsun seemed to believe I would be back there. And I can tell the blood doesn’t affect me the same way it affects you both. When compared to the dragon blood, it isn’t unbearable. I’d like to cure myself eventually, finally get a decent night’s sleep, but I don’t need to do it immediately. I can wait,” She finished, rubbing her hands up and down her thighs in a tick, looking at them both. “What have you been thinking?”

Vilkas looked his brother, and then to Mera, lips pressed into a hard line. “I’d like to cure myself. Sooner than later. Should something take me unexpectedly, I would want to go to Sovngarde. There’s no need to tempt fate.”

“I agree,” Farkas said, shifting his weight. “Wouldn’t want to end up like the old man. Yeah, we cured him, but that doesn’t seem like the sort of thing that could happen twice.”

“If you want me to fight with you, I’m more than willing. Aela saw, killing Kodlak’s beast was not an easy task. However,” she sighed, “I decided I’m not going to go back to Jorrvaskr with you. I’m going to take a break here, for a while. And I won’t be ready to trek my way all the way up to Winterhold and navigate through ice fields for some time. So if you don’t want to wait I have the heads. Of the witches. They’re in my house in Whiterun, being kept save by my Housecarl Lydia. You can talk to her and she’ll give them to you. Just keep me updated.”

“...we will.” Vilkas sighed.

Tense silence followed, and Mera shifted as she sipped the broth of her stew. After a long beat, Farkas spoke up. “Did you get your letters out?”

With that, the discussion shifted. Mera was thankful for the change. There was no need to harp on something so serious, not if they were going to be parting for some time. They drank, and Farkas told a story about a group of bandits he had taken care of while Mera was dealing with the Dragon Crisis, animatedly filling her in. Farkas might not have thought he was good at speaking, but he told great stories.

Mera laughed loudly, face warm from her mead and she lounged back in her chair, watching as Aela teased Farkas to overembelishing a part of the story. She'd miss them when they went, but she was firm in her decision to stay.

There was a lul in the conversation, and Mera closed her eyes, letting her head fall back. They would be heading back to the Bee and Barb soon. She could feel the energy in the room slowly dwindling.

And then the unmistakable sound of her back door opening snapped them back to attention. Like dogs woken from a nap at the sound of a knock, they quickly moved, Farkas grabbing his blade with all the speed of a wolf.

Mera got to her feet as Farkas charged forward and Vilkas moved to grab his greatsword. She threw herself bodily in front of them both, back facing the door and arms up to keep them for going charging at her home invader.

“Wait!” she called, before turning around. Groaning, she shook her head. “He’s fine. No need to run him through, alright?”

“...Am I interrupting something, lass?” Brynjolf asked, voice holding an edge. His body was tense, and his hand ghosted over where he kept his blade.

“No, well, yes, but--”

She was cut off by Aela shouldering her way past her. “So _this_ is Brynjolf!” She strode over to the thief with confidence, her swagger making her seem larger than she really was. She extended a hand. “Aela the Huntress. Pleased to finally meet you.”

“Finally?” Brynjolf asked, hesitantly accepting the hand. Aela gripped it and shook, and Mera was sure she was using enough strength to break a hand judging by the way Brynjolf's eyes widened for a fraction of a second.

“Yes! Mera told me about you.”

Seeing that Aela wasn't going to immediately pull a dagger on him, Brynjolf loosened his stance. “Good things, I hope.”

“Of course. And a couple of the bad,”

Before Brynjolf could even open his mouth, Mera cut him off. “Aela!”

The Huntress laughed and clapped Brynjolf heartily on the shoulder before stepping back. Mera rolled her eyes. Such a display. Aela rarely tried this hard, and Mera had to try not to laugh. She was doing it to make him squirm, of course, and it was working. Brynjolf was hardly the type to expect less from women, but Aela was strong and dominate and there was something wolfish about her grin. Mera had to resist the urge to laugh.

Behind her, she heard Farkas sheath his sword. “You're an…. associate of Mera's?” He asked, and Mera nearly laughed out loud with how uncomfortable he sounded. He was trying to be friendly and see was sure Farkas was smart enough to know that Brynjolf was a thief, but he tried to be civil. For that, she was grateful.

A wiry smile found itself onto Brynjolf's lips. “Aye, I am.”

“He's a friend,” Mera clarified, going to stand by him. “A dear friend, in fact. And the only person in this city outside of yourselves that knows about what happened and where I've been. So please be nice.”

An arm snaked behind her back and a large hand settled at her hip. She raised her eyebrows, glancing towards Brynjolf who had both his eyes fixed hard on the warriors in the room. He was trying to get a rise out of them, playing. Idiot.

“That's sweet of you to say, lass.”

“Oh shut it.” Mera rolled her eyes, elbowing him so he'd let go of her hip. He let her go, and responded with elbowing her back. The grin on Aela’s lips nearly split her face apart.

“Well! Farkas, Vilkas, I believe the inn is calling, don’t you think?” Aela turned to them both.

Vilkas looked between Mera and Brynjolf, suspicion in his eyes before he shook his head. “Yes. You're right. We'll be back in the morning to say goodbye, Mera.”

“I'll see you then.” She nodded her head at them as Vilkas lead Farkas out the door. Aela shot a wink her way before following close behind.

“I think I like the lass,” Brynjolf said as soon as they were alone, amusement plain in his voice. “You told her all about me?”

A blush found it's way into her cheeks. “Shut it, Bryn.”

He laughed loudly, and she smiled. “I'm glad you came back tonight.” she said as she turned to face him.  

His smile faltered at that, “Glad to be back, but unfortunately this isn't a social call.”

“What's wrong?” She asked, stomach churning.

“Sapphire noticed your little trip around the market today, and casually mentioned seeing you topside to Vex. Let's just say she wasn't too pleased to hear that you were, how did she put it… 'frolicing around Riften, flirting with Black-Briars when there's work to be done’. Her words, not mine.”

“Shit,” Mera sank onto her bed, holding her head in her hands. “That's…. Not ideal.”

“No, it isn't. I assured Vex that I'd been in contact with you, but you know how she is.”

“Right.”

“She's not happy about the secrecy.”

“I can't blame her for that,” Mera sighed, running fingers through her hair. “I was hoping to have more time before I met with them but… Brynjolf do you think you could get them topside for a meeting tonight?”

“Tonight? You sure about that lass?”

Mera sighed and nodded again. “I'd rather this not go on any longer.”

Brynjolf nodded, straightening out and crossing his arms over his chest. “Who do you want me to bring, boss?”

She smiled weakly. “Senior members only. Is Karliah around?”

Brynjolf looked up for a moment as he thought. “Aye, saw the lass earlier today.”

“Alright. Bring her too.”

“Here?”

“It'd be a little tight, don’t you think.”

“Riftweald it is.” Brynjolf grinned. “I'll go now. Head over now and steal yourself for a difficult conversation.”

Mera sighed and nodded, getting to her feet. “It's been so long since I've worn my Guild Leathers. I guess it's time I break them out.”

Brynjolf nodded and she managed a smile. “I'll see you there, Mera.” He said as he stepped out her door and moved silently towards the Flaggon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update down!  
> As promised, Brynjolf is back. Out goes the Companions and in comes the Thieves Guild. I've been looking forward to writing what comes next for a while. Exciting stuff. 
> 
> Also: I figure that theres gotta be a stronger bond between a werewolf and their forebear than other people in their pack. Like a vampire and their sire. I tried to play with that a bit :)


	13. Chapter 13

When Mercer was gone and dealt with, the Guild decided to keep Riftweald manor. They cleaned it out, sending the mercenaries packing and fixing the escape with a ladder so people from the Guild could climb up and into the basement. Keeping it felt like a way to spit in the face of Mercer Frey, even in death.

It sat mostly abandoned most days. The Cistern had enough beds and enough space for everyone but occasionally, when the senior members had to meet up or discuss something more private, they would meet up at Riftweald and sit around Mercer’s large table. 

Mera paced back and forth in front of that table, desperately wanting to scratch at her side. Her wounds itched, which she supposed was a sign that they were scabbing and healing properly, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t  _ annoying _ . Instead she dug her nails into her palm in an attempt to ease the urge and she squeezed her eyes tight shut. She counted her breaths, forcing herself to calm down. 

She heard feet walking up the stairs behind the wardrobe. 

She turned, ready to face them the second they walked in. 

Brynjolf opened the door, shooting her a glance before stepping to the side, holding it open as Karliah and Vex came stepping through. 

“ _ You _ .” Vex practically spat, and Mera steeled herself for a scolding, standing straight and unblinking as Vex approached her like a sabercat, ready to tear out her throat. “You have some nerve summoning us here, throwing around orders like you on the place. What, are you too good to come down to the Cistern and speak with us?” 

“Easy, Vex,” Brynjolf raised his hands, trying to pacify the situation, but if anything it seemed to fire Vex up more. 

“Don’t you  _ easy Vex _ me. You’re almost as guilty as she is, keeping her secrets. You never struck me as the kind of man to think with your cock but-”

“Vex!” Mera shouted, jaw firm. “That’s enough.” The fiery woman stopped in her tracks, turning her glare back to the Guild Master. “I called you here to explain,” she took a deep breath. “And to apologize.” 

The room was thick with tension, before Vex nodded curtly. “You better get to explaining.” 

“I will. I’ll tell you everything. But sit first, please.” Another beat passed before people moved to sit at the table. 

Delvin walked past her, placing a hand on her shoulder for a moment before settling down into a chair. “Good to see you, boss.”

Karliah passed her more silently, but nodded at her in her own quiet respect. Once everyone was settled, Mera placed herself at the head of the table, folding her hands and squeezing them tightly together to expel excess stress. She took a breath, and then she started. 

“First of all, I know an apology is in order. I swore I would lead the Guild and help bring us back from the brink. And I left. I left without explanation, leaving you to run it yourselves, and I’m sorry.” 

She looked to each of them, and before anyone could say anything, she continued. “However, I don’t expect you to forgive and forget without knowing why.” 

“You can bet on that,” Vex said, lounging backwards with a firm look on her face. 

Under the table, from her right, Brynjolf nudged his leg against hers. 

“Before I… before I begin, I need you to understand. This,” she looked at each of them once more. “This doesn’t leave the room. This doesn’t leave the Guild, once I Tell the others. Not even Maven can know. And I mean  _ especially  _ Maven can’t know. I need your word. All of you.” 

The urgency in her tone seemed to create a mixed emotional reaction from the room. Brynjolf took the lead. “You know I won’t be the one to tell.” 

“Nor will I,” Karliah added. 

“This seems pretty serious,” Delvin leaned into the table. “You gotten yourself into trouble?” 

Mera laughed sadly, shaking her head. “More than you know.” 

The old man frowned and nodded. “Then you have my word.”

Mera turned to look at Vex, who now had a frown plastered firmly to her face. “Yeah, alright. I won’t spill.” 

“Now what’s the problem?” Delvin asked, concern lacing his tone. Mera liked to think she and Delvin were good friends. Once, a client had neglected to tell them that a job was going to involve stealing something back from a bandit notorious for skinning those who crossed him. Mera had come back black, blue and with her arm in a sling. Delvin had been livid with the client, and Mera had gotten paid double. 

“Do you need the Guild to bail you out of it?” Delvin continued, and she was sure that if she didn’t cut him off, he’d offer to call in on a favor from the Dark Brotherhood. 

Mera shook her head, a sad smile pulling at her lips. “No, no. I've taken care of it.” She looked over at Brynjolf, who kept his eyes firmly on her. This was hard, as hard as she expected it to be. Under the table, she felt Brynjolf nudge her again, harder this time. “I, well…” She ran a hand through her hair. “Fuck, alright. You’re all familiar with the Dragon Crisis?” 

“Very,” Vex said dryly. “Tried to intercept a caravan a month ago, and one of the damned lizards swooped in and burnt the whole thing to a crisp. We lost a lot of money because of that.” 

“Right, and we’ve heard your story about Helgen a hundred times,” Delvin laughed dryly. “I’m not saying dragons aren’t fascinating, but you really need to get a new drinking story.” 

Mera quietly laughed. “Yeah, yeah you’re right. But you all know what I’m talking about, at least.”

“Aye, lass, we’re all well acquainted with the beasts,” Brynjolf leaned back in his chair, eyeing her with a slight down turn of his lip. She was beating around the bush, and he knew it. 

“I know, outside me and Bryn, the rest of you aren’t Nords, and I don’t know how far this… legend carries into other races and parts of Skyrim, but I assume you all heard the Greybeards call the Dragonborn to the top of their mountain.”

“Where is this going?” Vex asked, a hard look on her face. Mera knew she didn’t like to be confused, and Mera was not making this easy to understand by any means. 

Mera took a deep breath. “It’s me. They were calling me.”

“Nocturnal preserve us…” Karliah breathed in her soft voice, which was easily overpowered by Vex. 

“Bullshit.” She shook her head. “I don’t believe it, there’s no way!” 

“It’s true, Vex,” Mera straightened out, squaring her jaw and staring down the table. “I am the Last Dragonborn. It’s complicated and insane, but I’m telling the truth. I won’t bore you with details of prophecy and duty and fate, but that’s why I was gone.” 

“Prove it.” Delvin said, putting one elbow on the table and pointing at her. “I want to see.” He didn’t look sceptical, more so curious, eager to witness something spectacular. Appropriate of the superstitious old man, she supposed.  

Mera stood, mind pouring over her options. Unrelenting Force, Throw Voice, Fire Breath, Slow Time…. She didn’t want to do anything that could actually hurt anything in the room, but she didn’t want to do anything too simple. Say what you will, but she was eager to show off. She moved backwards, walking until her back connected with the wall. She faced the far side of the room and exhaled slowly.

“ _ Wuld _ !” Her thu’um shook the room as she sprinted, moving faster than mortal eyes could comprehend. But as she moved a problem suddenly became crystal clear.

The room was too small. 

At the last second, Mera turned her body, digging her feet in and bracing herself for impact as she slammed into the wall. She stumbled, and the sound of chairs scraping against the ground echoed around the room, filling the dizziness in her head.

Strong hands were on her in an instant, keeping her steady. Her whole body ached, her injured side and now the left as well, throbbing from impact. Her throat burned. She’d forgotten what it felt like to shout so freely. Out of practice, untrained. It would take weeks, months before her tolerance was built back up. 

“Easy, lass!” Brynjolf said as he helped straighten her out. 

“Fuck,” she hissed, shaking her head. “I didn’t think--”

“Are you alright?” He cut her off, his hand going to her injured side and she swatted him away, wordlessly lifting the bottom of her armor up just enough to slip her hand under to check for blood. 

She exhaled in relief. “No blood. I’m fine.” She rasped. 

“What the hell was that?” Vex asked loudly. “All powerful Dragonborn can’t even stop herself from running into walls?” 

Mera lifted her head, glancing at the blonde. She was on her feet, as was the rest of the table. Her words were harsh, but Mera could see the concern on her face. Vex liked to act like a hardass, liked to give her a hard time, but in the end they were both in the same Guild, and that made them family. 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I knew you’d hurt yourself.” Delvin joked dryly, worry lacing his tone as well. 

“I, uh,” Mera coughed, stepping back towards the table with a heavy limp and falling back into her chair. “I was hurt, recently. Badly. I thought I was well enough to do that but, ah… Apparently not.” She wheezed out a humorless laugh. “Body isn’t used to that anymore.” 

Silence engulfed the room, as everyone settled back down, the tension at the table palpable. Then, “And Brynjolf knew about all this?” Vex asked, sounding significantly less hostile than when she came in. 

“Aye, she told me, but only a few weeks ago.” 

“Why, why then? After all this time, why now?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Karliah finally spoke, her soft voice capturing the attention of everyone in the room. Her violet eyes focused on Mera from across the table. “She didn’t think she was going to make it back.” 

“‘s that true, boss?” Delvin asked, and Mera looked down at the table. 

“She’s right. What I had to do was… dangerous. Deadly, even. I thought I was bound for Sovngarde for sure.” Karliah frowned. “So I told Brynjolf, so he would be prepared should I… not have returned.” 

“Fair enough,” Delvin rubbed at his jaw. “But why the secrecy? We’re hardly an out an open lot, but secrets have doomed the Guild in the past.” 

Sitting in Riftweald manor, there was no need to say who he was referring to. Mera shook her head. “After Helgen, I went straight to Whiterun, where I helped the Jarl kill a dragon, and the whole city learned that I was Dragonborn at the same time I learned it about myself. I can’t walk down the street without a guard bowing his head to me. I became Thane, and then leader of the Companions. And then I came here, and no one knew my name.” She looked across the table, eyes scanning each of them. “I  _ earned  _ the position of Guild Master. I worked for the coin I earned, for the respect of the entire Guild. You didn’t accept me into the Guild because I was some ‘legendary hero’, or because you thought it would bring a bigger name to the Guild. I was accepted because I deserve it through my own efforts.”

“I guess I can respect that,” Vex rested her arms on the table. “And you don’t want Maven knowing because…”

“The thought of Maven Black-Briar believing she has some sort of hold over the Dragonborn, even if it’s just through business transactions, does not sit well with me. I hope you can understand that.” 

Vex nodded, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back. “Alright, boss. As long you’re not going to vanish again without a word, I can get past this.”

“Same here,” Delvin said. 

Karliah nodded, and Mera exhaled out her relief. “I plan on telling the rest of he Guild in time. I’m glad I could finally tell you all. Hopefully, things will be smoother from here on out.” 

Vex got to her feet, and Delvin followed, stretching his arms back behind him. “I’m going to head back to the Flagon, if that will be all, boss?”

“I’ll see you soon,” Mera nodded.

“Too pick up some jobs, I hope. Maybe you’re done fighting dragons, but we still need the gold.” Vex said pointedly, and Mera laughed. 

“Of course, Vex.” 

The two of them headed to the wardrobe and Delvin held open the door, gesturing inside with a wide movement of his hand. Vex rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder, walking past him with confidence in her steps. Karliah stayed behind, as did Brynjolf, and the whole room seemed to exhale a tension. 

“Feel better?” Brynjolf asked, and Mera nodded, placing her elbows on the table and putting her face in her hands. “Good, glad to hear it lass.”

“Mera,” Karliah started, standing and moving to a chair that was closer to her now that there were less people to fill the room. Her voice carried a hint of hesitation and of worry. 

“Karliah?” Mera turned her attention to her, a frown on her face as she looked at her fellow Nightingale. 

“I know you Nords go to Sovngarde in death but neither you or Brynjolf will. The three of us are claimed by Nocturnal in life and in death. When our debt to her is paid, we will find rest in Evergloam with the Nightingales that came before us.” Her voice was gentle as she spoke, reminding her of her place.

“Nocturnal is no the only Daedric Prince to have any claim over me, but I don’t think that matters,” Mera shook her head. “As Dragonborn, I have both the soul and the blood of a dragon. By right, I belong to Akatosh. As someone who can use the thu’um, Kyne might have some ownership over me, too. I guess it really comes down to who has more power, the Daedra or the Divines?” 

Karliah frowned, looking to the window. “Nocturnal will not be pleased.” 

“Truthfully, I think she knows. Many, many daedra have contacted me. Meridia, Azura, Sheogorath, Sanguine…. There has to be a reason for it.  I always assumed that it was because I’m Dragonborn.” A deep sense of melancholy clenched at Mera’s stomach. The question of her afterlife had haunted her since the concept of death had started to feel much more real as she inched closer to her confrontation with Alduin. Most everyone, regardless of race or creed, seemed solid in their place in this life and the next. But Mera… Mera wouldn’t know until she got there. 

“...It doesn’t matter now. No use thinking on it for too long,” Brynjolf spoke up, rising to his feet. “This can be a conversation for another day. At the moment, I would say Nocturnal hasn’t shown herself to be displeased with us, yet.” 

Karliah paused before nodding. “You’re right, Brynjolf, of course. Mera, it’s good to have you back.” 

“Staying at the Cistern tonight, lass?” Brynjolf asked her. 

“No, I’m going to Nightingale Hall for the night. Perhaps I’ll try and speak with Nocturnal.” Karliah stood, gathering herself. “But I’ll be sure to see you soon.” 

They bid Karliah goodbye, and then it was just the two of them left in Riftweald. Brynjolf offered her a hand, and Mera took it as he lifted her up and to her feet. “Can I walk you home lass?” 

“Ah, a true gentleman,” Mera teased, but her voice was weak. Tired. “I’d like that.”

He extended his arm and she smiled, hooking hers through his as they moved to the front door, and then out into the darkness of Riften. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time with this chapter, but a lot of fun. I like the idea of the guild keeping Riftweald manor for the drama of it. Like, a big old fuck you to Mercer Frey as they drink all his booze and have meetings there. 
> 
> I love Vex, she's so fiery and fierce. She doesn't take anyone's shit. A modern hero.


	14. Chapter 14

Brynjolf held the door to Honeyside open for her as Mera stepped inside. Immediately she threw herself into a chair, putting her head in her hands and groaning. What a night. 

“You alright, lass?” Brynjolf’s tone held a hint of amusement as she listened to his footsteps around the home. Finally, they settled beside her, and she felt something tap at her arm. 

Raising her head out of her hands, she saw him extending a bottle of Black-Briar mead, and she swiped it from him, cracking it open and taking a long drink. “I’m fine,” she finally answered. “I feel better than I did, now that it’s done. I’ve been holding onto that for a long time.” 

Brynjolf settled into the chair across from her with his own bottle of mead. He took a sip while looking at her. She cracked a tired smile. “Honestly, it went over better than I had expected.” 

“You expected worse than throwing yourself full force into a wall?”

She leaned across the table and punched him in the shoulder. “Oh, shut up, Bryn.” 

He laughed into the lip of his bottle, and she rolled her eyes. “I do have to say, seeing you shout was mighty impressive, lass.”

A light blush flushed in her neck. “Flatterer,” she muttered into her bottle and he winked over at her shamelessly. 

“.... I mean it, lass,” He said after a moment. “I’m a Nord through and through. I may not be superstitious or spiritual but I still grew up hearing about the legend of the Dragonborn. Of course, I never thought I’d see anything like it.” Brynjolf looked to his mead as he absently swirled the bottle, before looking back to Mera. 

“Can’t say I blame you,” she shrugged, taking a swig. “I would have thought it was a load of skeever shit too if it hadn’t happened to me.” 

Brynjolf chuckled quietly, and for a moment they sat in a comfortable silence before he spoke again. “How does it work?” 

“Hm?”

“Shouting. How does it work? In Riftweald you moved faster than anything I’d ever seen.” He leaned in, a glint in his emerald eyes that showed just how curious he was. 

Mera pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. It wasn’t often she got to actually explain her gift to someone. More often than not, someone was explaining herself to her, like with the Blades and the Greybeards. “Dragons,” she started, turning her whole body to face him completely, “they don’t just breathe fire. Or frost. When they use abilities like that, they’re really using Words of Power. They speak, and their shout, or  _ thu’um _ , creates an effect.  _ Yol _ , for example, means fire in the common tongue.  _ Wuld _ , the one I used at Riftweald, means whirlwind.” 

As she spoke, she leaned further into the table, closer to him. Her voice dropped low as she continued her explanation. “Each shout consists of three Words of Power. So fire breath is  _ yol toor shul _ , or fire, inferno, sun. The more words said, the more powerful the shout.” 

“You only said one word at Riftweald.” 

“Had I said all three, I would have probably gone  _ through _ the wall.” 

Brynjolf laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, I think I’m following. Continue.” 

“When a dragon is slain, there isn’t any perminance to it. A powerful enough of a being, like Alduin, could resurrect any one of them if it still has its soul. It doesn’t matter how many you kill,” She shook her head, knocking over a tankard on the table. “As long as it still has its soul, it can still come back.” Mera lifted the tankard back into an upright position, eyes searching Brynjolf to make sure he understood before he continued. His brow was furrowed tightly on his face, causing the frown lines to accentuate just above his nose, but he nodded for her to continue. He looked enthralled by her story, his full attention trained completely on her. Her cheeks flushed from the attention and the heat of the mead, and she leaned closer to him as she went on. 

“There’s only one thing that can permanently kill a dragon.” 

“Let me guess,” Brynjolf interrupted, and she took the opportunity to take a sip of her drink. “Only a Dragonborn can do the job right.” 

“Exactly. When a Dragonborn kills a dragon, they absorb its soul, and that dragon can no longer be resurrected,” 

“Which is why you were needed in order to stop the Dragon Crisis.” 

Mera nodded with her bottle at her lips. She placed it back on the table and exhaled before going forward. “A Dragonborn has the unique ability to learn a shout without practice or training. Simply seeing a word of power is enough to teach me the word. But just knowing the word isn’t enough for me to turn it into a  _ thu’um _ . I need to… understand it. When I consume a dragon’s soul, I take it’s knowledge as well, which I can use to develop the understanding necessary to form complete shouts.” 

“How many do you know?” 

“Twenty,” she said after a moment of thought. “I don’t know all three words to all of them, but I do for most.” 

Brynjolf stroked his stubble thoughtfully, and Mera finished her drink with a frown. She looked at the bottom of the bottle and sighed, grabbing another and taking a sip.

“Now, I understand why you wouldn’t want to use shouts when doing work for the Guild-” 

Mera cut him off with a short laugh. “Wouldn’t exactly be sneaky, would it?” 

“No, it wouldn’t be, lass,” Brynjolf chuckled. He finished his drink and continued. “But I’m sure one or two of those could have been very helpful when we were delving through those damn ruins, or in your fight with Mercer,” Brynjolf said the name with malice, “Why not use it then?” 

Mera looked down at the table, then back at Brynjolf, shaking her head. “I don’t like to use it when I’m fighting with allies, even if they know about my identity.” 

“Why not?” 

“Too dangerous. I’m always afraid my aim will be off, or someone will get caught in the crossfire.” Mera thought back to the time she shouted Farkas into a wall, overzealous in how she used her shouts and eager to show off. She had to take care of the rest of the Silver Hand grunts on her own while he recovered from the blunt force of her thu’um. She winced at the memory. “I use it more liberally when I’m on my own, fighting bandits or killing Draugr.” Mera took another swig with a sly smile. “Undead burn really quickly. It’s a quick way to end a fight.” 

Brynjolf nodded, taking her reasoning and accepting it without question. His green eyes met her blue ones and his lips pulled up in that lazy, half smirk of his. “I gotta say, lass. That’s quite the tale, and you tell it well.” 

“ _ Flatterer _ ,” she accused for the second time, hiding her smile behind the lip of the bottle. 

He chuckled deeply and leaned back so one arm was resting behind him on the back of he chair while his other hand nursed his drink. “What can I say? You make it rather easy, lass.” 

Mera snorted to hide her blush, shaking her head with a giggle. “Ass,”

“What? I mean it. Can’t I admit to being impressed?” His eyes held the candle light and sparked with mischief. Mera pulled at her lip with her teeth. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t still curious.”

“And what has you so curious?” She leaned in, fluttering her eyes, in the mood to play. 

“I’d love to see what other tricks you have up your sleeve,” he quirked an eyebrow at her. A challenge? It didn’t matter. She’d show him anything he’d like. 

“Alright, let’s try this on for size.” Mera leaned back, and without warning, she let her shout build in the back of her throat. “ _ Tiid… klo ul _ !” 

Beside her, the fire in the hearth stopped moving. Time slowed. Brynjolf looked more like a startled statue than a live human being sitting before her. 

She grinned, letting it split across her face as she stood, letting the chair scrape against the floor. Slow Time always made her feel like she had iron ingots tied to her arms and legs, forcing her movements from progressing, but that was nothing compared to how hindering it was to the rest of the world. Mera had already crossed the space between her and Brynjolf while the thief was still in mid blink. She lifted one leg and straddled him, lowering herself into his lap just as his eyes were finally closing. Sluggishly, she managed to lift one hand up and run it through his hair, making it stand up in a way that made her grin. Just as his eyes were opening, she used her other hand to grasp at his cheek and press her lips firmly against his. 

As abruptly as it began, it ended like a harsh clap of thunder, or a rush of wind as everything  _ started _ again, all at once. She didn’t try and hold onto him as he yanked his head back, breathing hard. He looked wild, hair still wrecked and standing up from where she messed it. 

“Shor’s bones, lass,” Brynjolf said breathlessly.

“How’s that for a trick?” She purred, leaning forward and pressing more of her body against him. His hands reflexively went up to grab at her hips, but he still looked stunned. “...I didn’t scare you did I?” 

He blinked, shaking his head quickly. “No, no. It’s just…” he let out a laugh, “that was some trick.” 

Mera laughed too, draping her arms over his shoulders, breathing in his space. “I bet I could show you things that you’d never believe.” 

She leaned in, getting impossibly closer before she caught his lips in hers. Gently, timidly, until he pulled back. 

“Mera…”

She wasn’t ready to speak. With her hands behind them she brought them up until they tangled in his hair. She didn’t try to force him forward, just guide him until his lips locked with hers again. 

I’d been so long since they’d done this. Months, even. Ever since she fled Riften, swords blazing as she raced against time to take on Alduin, she hadn’t been intimate with, well, anyone. She slid her tongue against his lips, and he let her lead, slipping inside so she could taste the alcohol in his breath. 

He broke the kiss again, keeping his forehead pressed to hers as she gasped, chest heaving as she tried to bring air back into her lungs. She heard him swallow thickly. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea, lass?” he asked, and he grunted as she pressed her hips more firmly against his. 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“You’re injured,” Brynjolf’s hand moved from her hip, up her side, ghosting over where her wounds still were red and angry against her covered flesh. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You hurt me…” Mera paused to feather a kiss against him, “And I’ll sic Aela the Huntress on you.” 

He laughed breathily, the chuckle shaking his shoulders. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” 

“Brynjolf,” she murmured against his lips, teasing him with another kiss. “Please.” 

Mera could practically hear the gears turning in his mind as he contemplated the possibilities. She rolled her hips against him to help speed up the process. Her lips traced his jaw as he groaned, tightening his grip on her. 

“Stubborn minx,” he growled, and in a hurried motion he stood, lifting her up until her ass was planted firmly on the table. 

“Ah,” she sighed out as he buried his face into her neck, nipping at her skin. “I am a dragon after all. Besides… don’t pretend like you don’t love it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A playful chapter for you all! I debated long and hard about changing the rating of this to M for this chapter alone but I decided to restrain myself and keep things PG13. I'll just have to write more smut another time. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed it! Please comment below and let me know what you think. 
> 
> Also! A poll for you. I've recently been replaying the game and I gotta know: Dawnguard or Dragonborn DLC?


	15. Chapter 15

Mera was awakened abruptly by a loud knocking at her door. She sat up straight, eyes wide and she whipped her head to look at door, mind racing as it tried to catch up.

Morning. Companions. Right.

Shit.

She scrambled out of bed, calling out, “Give me a minute!” as she frantically looked for something to throw on. Grabbing her pillow, she threw it at Brynjolf, who startled awake.

“Bryn!” she hissed between her teeth, and he held up one hand as he steadied himself, blinking at her. She shimmied on her pants and skillfully threw his bottoms his way at the same time. “Company! Get dressed.”

She didn’t have time to make sure he was doing as she said. She threw on her top, and only a minute after hearing the knock at her door, she was there to open it. She was surprised to find only the twins waiting on the other side. Her brow furrowed, but she stepped to the side to let them in.

“Aela is just gather a few supplies for the trip,” Vilkas explained before she could ask. “We figured we would swing by and-” He stopped short, eyes going to somewhere behind her and she quickly turned around.

She had honestly expected Brynjolf to sneak out the back door while her back was turned. It wasn’t exactly like their ‘arrangement’ was a secret, but him being here so early in the morning did imply something she wasn’t sure he would want the world to know. But when she turned around, there he was, in the middle of pulling on the top of his Guild armor.

She turned back to face Vilkas and caught a hint of discomfort in his expression. Farkas didn't take his eyes off the thief as he came up behind her.

“We, uh,” Vilkas shook his head. “Sorry, Mera, we didn't realize you had-”

Brynjolf cut him off, sliding an arm over her shoulder and looking like the most relaxed person in the room. “No worries, friend. I was just leaving.” He turned his head to face her. “See you around, lass.”

He released her, and walked with all the confidence of a cat between the two hulking men who stood in front of the door. “Pardon me,” he asked, and Farkas wordlessly stepped out of his way. Brynjolf pulled the door close behind him.

“He's…” Vilkas struggled, clearly trying to find something nice to say, "...charming..."

“Lass?” Farkas asked her, amusement clear on his face.

Mera's face turned red from embarrassment, but she couldn't help but laugh. “Can it you two.”

The door opened, and Aela entered, a grin splitting across her face. “I just saw Brynjolf leaving here looking like he hardly got any sleep.”

“Aela!” Mera scolded and Aela laughed.

“I tease, sister. It's my job.”

A lopsided smile found it's way onto Farkas’ lips and Vilkas simply shook his head.

“Did you get everything we need, Aela?” he asked, and she held up a brown sack.

“Bread, some cheese, a few potions. The essentials. I figure we'll probably end up making a few kills on the way.”

“Try and contain that bloodlust of yours, sister.” Mera said. “You'll get yourself into trouble.”

“And what's so bad about that?”

Mera shook her head and laughed before sombering. “I'm going to miss you. All of you.”

“We’ll miss you too. Try and come by Jorrvaskr soon.” Farkas said, placing a hand on her shoulder and looking down at you.

“Oh, you know me. I can never stay away for long,” She punched him lightly, before pulling him into a hug. From day one, she had a glaring soft spot for Farkas. Kodlak was right to call him kindhearted. She didn’t think there was an evil bone in his body.

Pulling back, she looked at each of them. “I can’t thank you enough for getting me down from High Hrothgar. Especially you, Vilkas, carrying my deadweight down the mountain.”

“Well, we couldn’t let the Harbinger rot up on a mountain with monks, could we?” Vilkas’ lip pulled up in the slightest smile. She moved and wrapped him in a tight hug, too. She was always less physical with Vilkas, but now she would make an exception.

“Boys, would you mind if I spoke with Mera for a moment privately?” Aela asked, and Farkas rolled his eyes.

“Rushing us out, is she?” He muttered, shaking his head. “Stay safe, Mera.”

“And don’t do anything stupid.” Vilkas said more seriously.

“I’ll take care of myself. I promise.” She assured them, and they went out the door.

“I’ve missed running with you, sister.” Aela said after a moment of silence.

Mera was silent for a moment, turning to face her fully with a frown. “I know. I have, too. Being near you again after so long wakes the beast, you know.”

“Yes, I know.”

“...Take care of them, Aela? It’s not as easy for them as it is for you. They’ll need help, should they decide to…”

“I will, you have my word. Perhaps we can even run as a pack one last time before you give it up.”

Mera smiled sadly. “I’d like that.” She shook herself out of her melancholy, “Before you go, I have something for you.”

“A gift? Sister you spoil me,” Aela teased as Mera moved to her chest.

“You have no idea. These were an absolute pain to make. Now that I’m back I’ll have a chance to practice at it but for now…” Walking back to Aela, she handed her a long bundle, wrapped in a cloth.

The Huntress took it, furrowing her eyebrows as she examined the package before she carefully opened it. “Are these…?” She started, admiration coming through in her tone.

“Dragonbone arrows, yes. That’s about as deadly as it gets, so save them for something important, yeah?”

Aela walked to her with quick steps, wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug that Mera was eager to reciprocate. She held the older woman close, resting her chin on her shoulder and exhaling slowly. “Gods I’ll miss you,” Mera said softly.

As they separated, they moved in a way that was familiar, intimate. Mera cupped her hand behind Aela’s head, and Aela did the same, each using their right arm to hold the other close as they pressed their foreheads together and closed their eyes, taking each other in with every breath.

“Fight well,” Aela said.

“Kill well,” Mera ended, their voices soft in their shared space.

For a moment longer they stayed that way, until Aela finally moved to part them. She lifted her other hand up and gripped at both of Mera’s shoulders and arms distance away. “Stay true to the moons, sister, and they will guide you.”

“Always,” Mera nodded. And then the moment was over, and they parted fully.

A wiry smile found its way onto Aela’s lips. “And be careful with that Brynjolf. He’s an absolute _rogue_ , isn’t he?”

Mera blushed and laughed loudly. “Goodbye, Aela.”

“I’ll see you soon, sister,” The Huntress said, bowing her head slightly. With her new arrows tightly in hand, she placed the spare key to Honeyside on the end table. She turned her back to Mera and, without looking behind her, walked out the door, finally leaving the Dragonborn all alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter feels short for some reason. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like this chapter as much as I loved writing it. Truly, I adore Aela and one of my favorite NPC repeated quotes is "Something's shifted in the moons, sister." The way she says it always speaks to me, and I feel like I pulled a lot of that emotion into the relationship she has with my Dragonborn. 
> 
> Side note, I always can picture Aela acting the way Wonder Woman does in the old cartoon network justice league cartoons. I constantly want to write her exclaiming "Hera!" in shock. 
> 
> Kudos and Comments, please and thank you!


	16. Chapter 16

When the Companions left things were quiet. Her beast spirit was unsettled, craving the presence of her pack like it always did after a sudden absence, but it would calm down. It always did.

In a few, short days Mera’s wounds were sealed with fresh skin, scars to be sure but healed over regardless. She felt like a new woman, ready to take on the world, lead every Guild and win the civil war.

Or perhaps she was just going stir crazy.

It didn’t matter, she had big plans to change that.

Mera wandered the market, eyes lingering for too long at Madesi’s stand, appraising a shining silver and sapphire pendant that caught her attention. Pulling her gaze away, her eyes searched until she found Brynjolf, all smiles and compliments as he tried to charm some poor young woman while he picked her pocket. She rolled her eyes. Normally, she wouldn’t bother him while he was working, but it was just to tempting.

“Brynjolf!” she called out excitedly, waving at him from across the market. The man looked over to her, brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what she was doing.

Mera moved over, bumping into the traveler as she walked past, and quickly apologising as she linked herself to Brynjolf’s arm. “I’ve been looking all over for you,” she gazed up at him, and he looked at her, baffled with a hint of annoyance as his mark narrowed her eyes. “Who’s your new friend?”

“Oh, this is,” Brynjolf started, but the stranger cut her off.

“Don’t worry about me. I was only stopping to get some supplies. I’ll be taking my leave now. It was a _pleasure_ to meet you, Brynjolf,” the woman scowled, before turning her attention completely away from them, and heading out towards the gate of the city.

Brynjolf turned to her, eyes dark and a solid frown on his face as he slipped his arm from hers. “That was rude, Mera. The nice lass had something very nice that I wanted.”

“Oh, I’m sure she did.” Mera lifted her hand that she had closed in a tight fist and flipped it over. When she opened it, a gold and emerald ring sat in the center of her palm. “It didn’t happen to look like this, did it?”

“Clever lass,” he said lowly, his frown turning into a playful scowl. “That was a dirty trick. Who taught you that?”

“I can’t recall. Just some red headed Nord. He was quite the charmer.”

Brynjolf chuckled, linking their arms once again. He lead her into a stroll that took them back through the market. With the two of them both dressed casually, out of their Guild armor and in the plain day, they must have looked like any other person, spending the day enjoying the sun. Some might even mistake them for lovers.

“So, were you really looking for me, lass, or were you just looking to cause trouble?”

“The answer is yes to both”, she said as they wound up in front of Madesi’s stand again. Her hand went to the pendant she saw before, looking at Madesi questioningly before getting a nod of approval to pick it up. She admired the way it sparkled in the light. “I was wondering about the status of the family. Will everyone be home tonight?”

Brynjolf’s large hand grasped at hers, taking hold of the pendant until she let it go. He lifted it up to her neck, holding it so it dandled down and too her chest. He looked at it appraisingly. “I believe so. I can double check. Why?” He placed the necklace back on the table as Mera grabbed for a golden ring, turning it over in her hand.

“I’ll be coming home, and I’d like to talk to all the kids.” Mera said as she slipped the ring onto her finger, turning her hand from side to side to see if she liked how it looked.

“I’ll make sure none of them go out to play, then,” he watched her as she took off the ring and put it back on the table, thanking Madesi as they walked away.

Anyone listening was sure to realize that Brynjolf and Mera weren’t talking about a real family, or at least not a family of their own. Most of Riften saw Brynjolf as a con artist and Mera as a helpful friend, even if she was a bit odd as she floated in and out of town without any real rhyme or reason to it. But, they did have appearances to keep, and outright talking about the Thieves Guild was sure to draw much, much more unwanted attention.

Brynjolf leaned over beside her, speaking in her ear. “Are you ready to come back, lass?” he asked.

All Mera could do was nod. “Yes, I am.”

 

* * *

 

When she laid her eyes on the door to the Ragged Flagon, her heart fluttered in her chest. She hadn’t felt this much _positive_ anticipation in ages, and it had her squirming, shaking her hands at her sides and stomping her feet as she took a long breath.

She could do this. She was ready.

Mera pushed open the door.

She walked in in her Guild Master armor, minus the hood, Amulet of Articulation hanging proudly around her neck. She nodded at the merchants she passed on her way down the walkway, and she saw Dirge’s eyes widen slightly at the sight of her.

Gods she’d been gone for so long.

She nodded her head at him, and he bowed his back, staying silent as she stood tall before the bar.

As if he sensed her presence, Delvin looked up from the log book he was pouring over, eyes going wide before he grinned. “Good to see you, boss!”

From her usual perch leaning against the fence, Vex’s head swiveled to look her way. “Look what the cat dragged in,” she said, but she could see the upturn of her lips, even from where she stood.

“Delvin, Vex,” Mera greeted them both. “Brynjolf should be gathering up the Guild in the Cistern. I’m about to go talk to them. Neither of you have to come, of course, but just so you're aware.”

“I’ll stay out here. Keep an eye on things while you’re giving speeches,” Vex said, her smirk still present on her face. “...But good luck. I doubt they’ll give you much trouble. I thought Sapphire was going to punch me for even insinuating that you weren’t doing well as Guild Master.”

“Thanks, Vex, I’m touched.”

“Yeah, well maybe now you’ll have the chance to change it.” Her voice was softer, if only for a moment, before her smile faded and her face was back to being as harsh as ever.

“I’ll come with ya.” Delvin said as he pulled himself out of her chair. “I’ll catch you up on what you miss, Vex.”

“Don’t rush to it,”

“Alright. Thanks Delvin.” Mera interrupted before any fight could break out between them. “Come on, I don’t want to keep them waiting.”

As she walked by, Vekel smiled in her direction, sweeping the floor and watching her as she went. After so long, it felt odd, but her muscles didn’t seem to forget the way to the Cistern, and her legs took her there without thought.

Mera took a deep breath, and she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, then, in you get,” Delvin said from behind her.

No time to waste. She went inside.

Even down the short hall that lead to the Cistern in its full glory, she could see Brynjolf standing in the center with his arms crossed over his chest. She’d seen him do that so many times when she had just started, usually with Mercer by his side. It acted as a reminder that he was _not_ the Guild Master, she was, and he should not be standing there all alone.

As she entered the Cistern propper, she heard a quiet gasp. “Mera!” Sapphire said, and she felt her chest ache with the thought of how long it’d been since she’d seen her Guild sister. She turned to face the other woman, sparing her a smile before she continued towards the center. She became aware of Delvin’s presence missing from behind her. At some point he must have peeled off, going to cling to some shadow and watch as she attempted to reconcile with the Guild as a whole. She prayed to every Divine that she didn’t disappoint him.

Brynjolf looked hardened as she walked up to him. This wasn’t the man she’d invited into her bed so many times, this was a Brynjolf that was all business. She needed that tonight.

“Alright everybody, listen up!” His voice echoed around the chamber, and everyone who hadn’t been paying attention now turned their eyes to the center.

Niruin, Etienne, Cynric, Rune … they were all there, even the newer members, all eyes on her. A few even appeared shocked to see her, and she couldn’t help but feel like she had let them down.

“Floor’s yours, lass,” Brynjolf said lowly, just so she could hear.

Mera exhaled, shifting her posture so she looked strong, powerful. She spoke loudly, with enough volume that the whole room could hear her. “Thank you, Brynjolf. It’s good to see everyone here.” Inhale, exhale. “I’ll keep this short and sweet. I know I’ve been gone. Three months with hardly a word is a long time, I know, and I wanted to apologize to all of you. When I became Guild Master, it was to be everything Mercer Frey wasn’t: involved, present, and most of all _honest_. Honest to the Guild about what’s happening and why. But I haven’t been honest to you, or involved, or even present. And I’m sorry.”

Mera looked around at her brothers and sisters in crime. An uncomfortable silence settled through the Cistern before she continued. “I can’t tell you right now why I was gone or what I was doing. Not while it’s so fresh. Get me drunk in a month and I’m sure I’ll tell it to you. I promise, it’ll be fresher than my Helgen story,” a few chuckle sounded, and Mera smiled. “What I can tell you is this. I’m back. And I have big plans for us that will see that safe,” she pointed to it without looking, “filled with so much coin that we won’t even be able to close the door.”

Mera grinned widely, feeling a rush of power hit her like a brick. It felt good to be in front of a group, be respected and feared, and to have them all listen to every word she said. “I won’t get mushy, but I’m glad to be back,” she said with a sense of finality. “Now stop staring. Get back to work.”

She watched Cynric shake his head, amusement clear on his face as he and Niruin went back to shooting arrows at the dummies in the water. Rune pulled Sapphire back into a conversation, and the Guild moved on.

Brynjolf spoke from beside her, “Big plans, eh lass?”

“I’ve been thinking for a long time Bryn, that perhaps the Guild could benefit from a little more expansion. Delvin’s started handing out jobs in Solstheim, last I heard, which is technically in Morrowind if I’m correct. Riften is closer to some cities in Cyrodiil than it is to Solitude. A great way to fill our coffers would be to just… find more people to steal from, don’t you think?” She faced him with a conniving grin. “With the war here in Skyrim, I imagine Cyrodiil is awfully short on any sort of law enforcement.”

His chuckle put her at ease. “I would think so. The Guild hasn’t been prepared to tackle jobs like that in years. You want to be the one to take them on again?”

Mera lowered her voice, making their conversation more private as she lead him towards Delvin who stood waiting near the entrance of the Flagon. “Bryn, I’ve never known a life outside of being Dragonborn. If I’m going to find my place in all this, I’ve got to do something big to keep me grounded.”

Brynjolf grabbed her arm, stopping her and forcing her to look at him again, his face serious. “Mera, listen to me. This past year I’ve seen more things happen that I would have never imagined possible to fit a whole lifetime. And it all was thanks to you, lass.” Heat pooled in her cheeks at the moment of honesty. “If anyone can lead this Guild into a brighter and bigger future, it’s you.”

Mera couldn’t help the genuine smile that formed at her lips. “Trust me Brynjolf. If I learned one thing, it's that Nirn isn’t done with me yet. And I am far from done with it.”

She let her arm slip from his grip as she continued to lead him into the Flagon, passing by Delvin on the way. With both men walking behind her, she held the door open, pausing for a moment before stepping inside. First she needed a cool drink, and then, then she wanted to start planning. She had a tomorrow to work towards, and she was eager to get started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this is it. The end of the story! Well, not quite. I realized I had much too much planned for Mera to fit into the themes of this story, so it was time for this to end and the next part to begin (once I settle on exactly what the plot will be. I have quite a few big ideas). 
> 
> For now I'll be working on Beginners Guild to Thieving, as well as a couple of shorter pieces I have planned. 
> 
> As always, your comments fuel and inspire me. If you have anything you'd like to say, please say it, and if theres any idea you'd like to pitch as to what Mera's future could possibly hold, I'm all ears. Nothing is set in stone. 
> 
> Thanks for reading everyone! It's been fun.


End file.
